


Love knows hidden paths

by asamandra



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Falling In Love, King!Tony, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Possessive Tony, Prince!Clint, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery, slave!Clint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 25,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asamandra/pseuds/asamandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two countries are at war for centuries and one gesture changes everything...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He stopped his horse in front of the gates of the castle. There were guards at the bridge and looked at him but they just watched them. He looked at his companion, Phil, and nodded.

“Please, don't do this. You can't do it. You can't trust him. He will...”

“He gave me his word. And I don't have another chance, Phil. He has my family. There's only one way to save them.”

“But he will kill you.” The older man looked down at him when he dismounted and gave him the reins. “Please, prince. Think better of it. You can't trust the Stark.” 

“He gave me his word,” he repeated and looked at Phil again. “There's nothing else I can do,” he added quietly. 

The older man finally nodded. “Send Natasha with them to protect them.” 

“I will, my prince.” He held out his hand and the prince grasped his wrist while he took the prince's. “Good luck.” 

The younger man nodded and turned to face the gate. He swallowed and closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath and started to walk. The guards looked at him. Of course they recognized him but they let him pass. He walked into the inner yard and when he spotted the main entrance he turned in the direction. Other guards saw him. They whispered, pointed but no one stopped him and no one tried to take away his weaponry. 

When he passed a few maids they slapped their hands over their mouths and squealed. Apparently he had earned quite a reputation amongst the Stark's people. 

He walked up the stairs and the two guards there looked at him for a long moment but then they opened the gates and let him in. Dread settled in his stomach and his breathing sped up slightly. 

The Stark's castle was exquisite. Even in the lower floors he could see the wealth of the man. A servant appeared to ask him what he wanted but the man recognized him as well as the guards and he gestured for him to follow. He nodded once and then the old man turned and went to the staircase. He climbed up and the prince followed him. Once again, as soon as they passed other people they started to whisper. No one expected to see him here, in the lion's den so to speak.

They entered a large corridor with beautiful pictures at the walls. The prince saw the Stark's ancestors on them while they walked to a huge door at the far end of the corridor. Two guards opened the doors and the prince could see a large hall behind them. It had a throne in the middle of one wall and tables and chairs, crammed with people on the long sides. The music stopped and the people turned their heads to him, stared at him open-mouthed, some pointed with their fingers, whispered and the prince swallowed again. He took another deep breath and entered the room. The servant stayed outside and the guards closed the doors behind him. He felt trapped. It was quiet when he started to walk up to the Stark's throne where the man sat, a red haired woman beside him. He had a tiny smirk on his face and the prince wished, he could make it disappear with one of his arrows but then the war would never stop and there were too many people dead already. 

The prince didn't show his fear while he walked up to his enemy. It was perfectly still, the only sound were his steps on the floor.

“So, you're here,” the Stark said when he stood in front of his throne. 

“I'm here on your word to negotiate about peace.” The Stark nodded.

“What do you want?” he asked and the prince licked his lips before he took a deep breath. 

“I want you to stop attacking my kingdom, I want you to set the king and the queen free and they will go into exile, I want the body of the crown prince to be buried befitting his rank, I want you to not punish my people for following my orders and I want Philip, Son of the house Coul, to stay as administrator.”

“What do you offer?” the Stark asked.

“My kingdom becomes part of yours and I take my parents place to guarantee that the peace will be preserved.” He held the Stark's gaze when the older man leaned forward a few inches. 

“You offer yourself to me? Body and soul?” the prince closed his eyes for a second and then he nodded once. The Stark eyed him up for a long moment and then he gestured to the huge blonde warrior sitting on the table to his right. 

“Captain Rogers, can you please accompany our guests Harold and Edith up to here?” 

“Yes, my lord,” the man said and left the hall. The Stark rose from his throne, walked down the few steps and came up to him, surrounded him and still looked him over. The prince didn't move a muscle, just stayed where he was and let the older man do his inspection. 

“Nice, really nice,” he whispered quietly, only for him to hear and the prince licked his lips again, nervously. The people in the hall started to whisper again but fell silent the moment the door went open and the warrior, Rogers, came back with his parents, held by a few guards. He could hear the harsh intake of breath from his mother and he swallowed but he didn't show any fear. 

“I accept your offer, _prince_.” The Stark said and went back to his throne. Captain Rogers came up to stay beside his king and the prince could hear the guards shuffling his parents closer. On a nod from Rogers the prince laid down his bow, removed his quiver, sword and two daggers and placed all his weapons on the floor, he stepped away from them and then – after another deep breath – knelt down. Rogers mouthed 'say it' and gestured with his hand.

“I surrender myself to you... my lord,” the prince said and he managed that his voice stayed calm and didn't waver.

“What are you doing?” he could hear his father yell but the Stark lifted one hand. 

“Your son is taking your place. You, King Harold, and your wife will go into exile and your kingdom will become part of mine. The war is over.” 

The prince couldn't hear his father's response because the people started to clap their hands and to cheer. A centuries-long war finally ended. The prince... no... just Clint... didn't struggle when Rogers came over to him and fastened cuffs around his wrists and tied them on his back, the Stark's eyes on him with an unreadable expression. He rose and let Rogers lead him out of the throne room obediently. He wasn't a prince anymore. He was the Stark's property now.


	2. Chapter 2

The last thing he saw from his father was a hateful glance. Yes, he had capitulated but he couldn't continue the war his father and the barons had fought for so long. He had seen too many people die, too many maimed men, too many starving children. He could live with his father's hate but now he knew that his people could live in peace and the price he had to pay was minimal in comparison to the alternatives. 

Clint didn't struggle when two of the Stark's guards grabbed his arms and they followed Captain Rogers. He knew the man from the battlegrounds, a fierce warrior but not gruesome. Rogers led him to the servants accommodations, into a room with a basin in the floor. 

On a nod from Rogers the guards started to cut off his clothes.

“You know, this is not necessary, Captain Rogers,” Clint said quietly. “Untie me and I undress myself.” 

“No, it's okay, they will do it.” The man folded his arms in front of his chest and watched them.

“Do you think it's a trick? That I came to murder the Stark?” 

“I don't know. You're Harold's son after all,” the man muttered and Clint nodded.

“Yes, that's true. But I'm here to grant peace for my people.” 

“We'll see.” Rogers nodded at the guards to leave the room and another man came in. He was shorter than Rogers and had brown, curly hair. 

“This is our healer. He will check that you don't carry anything with you.” Rogers blushed and Clint looked at him but nodded. He had agreed and he understood that they had to be careful. 

“Bruce,” Rogers said and turned around. 

“I'm sorry, highness,” the man said but Clint shook his head. 

“Just Clint,” he said and the healer blushed as well. He started to frisk him and Clint closed his eyes, let him do his job and obeyed when he instructed him to lift his limbs or turn around and things like that. It was humiliating but he hadn't expected anything else. In the Stark's place he had done the same. Their families, their countries were enemies for so long, longer than anyone could remember and even the old said, their grandparents had heard from their grandparents that they couldn't remember when the war started. 

“All right, he doesn't have anything hidden, Captain.” 

Rogers turned around and the healer left the room. The two guards waiting outside came back and the captain pointed at the basin. “Clean him,” he ordered after looking him over. He rode four days without break to the Stark's castle after he got the message, he was filthy. The guards obeyed and Clint didn't say anything when their hands roamed a bit too freely over his exposed body, his ass, his genitals, he just let them do their job and swallowed slightly. When they had dried him Rogers pointed at the door and the men grabbed his arms again. He was still naked and no one seemed to want to give him something to wear or at least to cover him.

Clint looked at the captain, a brow raised, who just shrugged apologetically. “I'm sorry, King Anthony's instructions.” 

“Lead the way,” he said and Rogers opened the doors. The guards held his arms but it wasn't necessary. He even would follow them untied. But Clint also knew that this meant to show _him_ the power of the Stark. He blushed slightly when the guards and Rogers led him through the castle and up a few stairs. The nobles and servants they met gasped in shock, at least most of them. A few eyed him hungrily and Clint knew, if the Stark wanted to he could easily give him to them. And Clint would do whatever they wanted.

They arrived at a door where two guards waited and Rogers opened the door. The two men holding him shoved him in rougher than required since Clint didn't struggle or fight once. The suite behind the doors was huge and he knew his father's suite in their castle at home was not even half as big. The first room contained a few spacious couches, tables, a pompous desk and huge paintings on the wall. It led to another room and Clint could see a huge four-poster bed in the other room with red and golden drapes around. The guards, together with Rogers, entered the bedroom and Clint saw another door. Apparently it went to a bathroom. In both rooms were open fireplaces and they heated the rooms. 

The Stark wasn't there but Rogers seemed to know what to do with him. In the bedroom he found... a pedestal? And in the wall behind were four rings embedded, two at face height, two at hip height. On the floor lay pelts and Clint had to step on the pedestal. Rogers opened the cuffs behind his back and fastened them to the upper set of rings. He had to stay upright but at least it was near the fire and it warmed him. 

The three men left the room and Clint leaned his head on the wall. That wasn't what he had expected. He thought they would throw him in a cell to let him rot there and not putting him on display in the Stark's bedroom. Oh god, he was naked, bound and helpless he suddenly realized. The Stark could do to him whatever he wanted and Clint swallowed really hard. Apparently all the rumors were true about the Stark and his _conquests_. But he had agreed to the deal, body and soul, and with a shudder he leaned back at the wall. He would do whatever was necessary to keep his people safe. Everything. 

“Finally,” he heard the other man's voice and turned his head. The Stark leaned in the doorjamb, his arms folded in front of his chest and watched him. “Finally you're here.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Two weeks earlier**

 

“Report, General Rhodes,” Anthony said as soon as he had entered the great hall with Captain Rogers beside him.

“My lord, we can defeat the Venian troops within the next week completely. Since we managed to capture King Harold and Queen Edith the northern barons pulled out their troops and left the young prince alone at the borders with only his core troops.”

“They pulled out their troops? In the middle of a battle?” 

“Yes, my lord. It is strange behavior but the northern barons, first of all Buck of the house Chisholm, had always plotted against King Harold and now, with the king captured and crown prince Charles dead they see their chances.” 

Anthony bit his lip and looked at the map on the table in front of him. Rhodes hat placed figures to indicate the remaining troops. 

“That's all he has?” Anthony looked up and furrowed his brows. They clearly had advantage over them, five or six to one. “Why is he still fighting?” 

“I don't know, my lord. He and his men are enclosed in the border province Seyan. It's rich in forests and he's an excellent archer,” General Stane answered and Anthony glared at the man. He knew that. It was the young prince who shot his father in the Battle of Caragena. 

Anthony sighed and looked at his Generals and Captain Rogers. “Dismissed,” he finally said and all of the men bowed and wanted to leave. “General Rhodes and Captain Rogers, you stay.” The two men waited till all of the other men were out of the room before they looked at King Anthony.

“Okay, Rhodey, Steve. What can we do?” he asked and their behavior shifted from the formal attitude in public to relaxed when they were alone. 

“I don't know, Tony. He and his archers are shooting everyone. They can't be too much left but... they are _good_ ,” Rhodes said.

“You know that he already lost. He can't leave Seyan right now and the northern barons sure as hell plan to attack his capital, now that no one is there to defend it,” Steve added but Anthony already knew that. 

“Okay, give me a parchment. I'll write a letter,” he said.

“To whom? To him?” Steve's eyes went wide with shock when Anthony sat down and took the parchment. 

“Of course. There's only one chance to save his country and I'll offer him this chance.” 

“What do you have in mind?” Rhodes asked.

“The only way for him to save his country and his people is, when someone is there to defend them. He has only his core troops left. The barons urged his father from battle to battle and offered them their troops. Now they have pulled them out and he's helpless. I'll send him a peace offer.”

“You what?!” Rhodes looked at his King as if he had lost his mind.

“I'll offer him peace and I'll offer him troops to defend his capital. And the only thing I want is that he surrenders.” 

“He won't do that. He's a son of the house of Barton. They are born with weapons in their hands and they don't...” Rhodes started.

“It's his only chance. If he has half a brain – and my spies say he has – he'll accept the offer.” Anthony grinned.

“And you are sure you're not going to do this because he's also an extremely attractive guy? Well... for a Barton.” Rhodes smirked now and Steve folded his arms in front of his chest.

“Tony?” he asked and the Stark sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“He killed my father. I want to punish him,” he finally huffed.

“Sure,” Rhodes looked at Steve and rubbed his face.

“What's that supposed to mean? I'm not interested in anything else but...”

“Tony, you tell that to yourself. I _know_ that you're lusting after him since you've met him on crown prince Thor's designation to be the next king of Asgard.” 

“I'm not _lusting_ after him, Rhodey. I admit that he's an attractive man but first and foremost he's the killer of my father.” 

“And why do you try to safe his country from the barons?” Rhodes pursed his lips and sat down opposite of Anthony. 

“Because it's unprotected right now. We can go in and take the whole country and no one can stop us. But if we do it in an aggressive manner, the people will fight us. If we're there to help them, then they will accept us. They will cheer when we conquer their country. And we administer a severe blow to Chisholm and the other barons.” Anthony grinned. 

“You think this will work?” Steve seemed skeptical. 

“Of course it will. Like I said, it's the only chance he has to save his people. You know that I have spies in Belianka in his castle and they say, this boy is very concerned for his people.” 

“This _boy_ , Tony, is only five years younger than you,” Rhodes muttered. 

“Come on, this plan is ingenious. We end a war that lasts way too long, we save people, we put the northern barons in their place and...” Anthony grinned. 

“... you get your boy toy and get rid of the ugly Harold and his shrew,” Steve threw in but Anthony ignored him. 

“... and I can finally punish the man who killed my father.” Anthony looked at the letter he had just written and then he folded it, sealed it with sealing wax and pressed his ring into the still warm wax. 

“Call Parker, I need my fastest mounted messenger.” 

“Yes, my lord.” Steve said, bowed and left the room together with Rhodes.

“It will work. It has to!” Anthony murmured and stared at the letter. “It has to work.”


	4. Chapter 4

Silently Anthony stepped in his bedroom and saw the younger man, chained to the wall on the pedestal. He had ordered it to be built the day after he had sent him the letter. 

Rhodey was right, the prince _was_ pretty. A glorious sight, the long, lean muscles, the slightly tanned skin, the sparse body hair, a few faint scars... the flaccid cock in a nest of dark pubic hair. The prince swallowed and Anthony was sure that he was scared. He would be scared in his place. 

At first Rhodes had called him insane when he said he will hold him in his bedroom but then, he and Steve both knew as well as Anthony, that the cell, that could hold the young prince, didn't exist so far. But naked and chained to the wall, there wasn't much he could do. 

“Finally,” he said and when the young man turned his head and looked at him, he smirked slightly. “Finally you're here.” 

The younger man straightened his back and looked at Anthony but didn't answer. But he held his gaze. Not many people could do that, Anthony had to admit. Most of them looked away after a few seconds. 

“This was... very noble. To take your father's place. What did he call you? Worthless? Weakling?” Anthony saw his prisoner twitch and grit his teeth. “King Odin of Asgard offered him a mansion at the Jotunheim border and he and your mother are on their way to their new home.” The prince looked away for a second and swallowed again. Anthony saw the faint quivering muscles in his stomach and his own mouth got dry. The prince grasped the chains that held him and then he locked his eyes once again with Anthony's. 

Anthony turned around but he still felt his gaze on his head. He left the room, went into the bathroom and undressed. When he entered his bedroom again, he only wore a dressing gown. He went to the huge bed and sat down and let his eyes roam over his prisoner's body. The prince saw it as well and Anthony could see him flinch slightly.

“Are you expecting me to rape you? Sorry, I have to disappoint you,” he leaned back and smirked when he saw the disbelieving glance. 

“If you don't want him can I have him?” he heard Pepper's voice and he turned his head. Perfect timing, like usual. The prince blushed violently but he couldn't cover his body.

“You want him?” he asked and Pepper opened her mouth a fraction when she saw the prisoner's eyes go wide. He still kept quiet but his face told more than he wanted to. Anthony could see the tiny hint of fear. 

“He's pretty.” Pepper stepped onto the pedestal and looked at the younger man, touched his chest with her fingertips and Anthony saw him swallow and his lips quivering. 

“I won't do anything to you... unless you beg me,” Anthony said and the prince pressed his lips together. When Pepper left the pedestal Tony rose and went to his nightstand. He took the arrow he had there. This arrow was here since the Battle of Caragena.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked and held the arrow in his hand and he saw the younger man lick his lips. Yes, he recognized it as one of his. The dark, wooden shaft, the fletching of three half-feathers from a hawk were his trademark. “This is the arrow that killed my father.” Anthony stepped onto the pedestal and looked down at the slightly shorter man, the arrow in his hand. The prince's breathing sped up and he still refused to talk but once again he held Anthony's gaze. _Tri-colored! His eyes are tri-colored. And beautiful._

Pepper watched the two of them and their eye duel and sighed audible. That broke the moment and both men looked at her. She went over to the bed and sat down and after a few seconds, Anthony smirked and followed her. He placed the arrow on a small table, out of the prisoner's range but within eyeshot and climbed onto the bed. He opened the fastening that held the drapes and they fell shut, blocked the bed from the prince's view. 

Anthony stripped out of his gown and lay down on his stomach, a cushion under his arms and Pepper sat on his legs. She let her hands roam over his back and started to knead the tensed up muscles and he couldn't repress a groan. They could hear the slight clinking from the prince's chains. Pepper's hands were pure magic, she loosened all the knots and he could finally relax. When she was done she kissed his shoulder and rose to leave him.

“Tell the guard he shall lengthen his chains a bit so he can lie down if he wants,” he whispered and Pepper laughed this tiny, pearly laughter and with a breathed “Good night,” she left the room. Anthony could hear the chains and then boots. The guard came and wordlessly lengthened the chains and left the room again. 

He lay back, his head on the cushions and the sheets draped over him. After a while he heard some rustling and clinking. Apparently the prince had sat down. 

Anthony closed his eyes, tried to sleep but his hand traveled down along his body and he stroked his cock. To have the prince here in his bedroom was arousing. Yes, he meant what he had said, he didn't want to rape him. He wanted to break him, sure, but it would be even more glorious if he begged him to be fucked. His mouth got dry at the image, the beautiful man, squirming under him, his eyes dilated, his legs spread, screaming his name in pure pleasure and his hand moved faster. He bit his lip when he came. 

Before he drifted off to sleep he took a cushion and opened the drapes a bit, saw the prince sitting with his back at the wall, his legs drawn to his body and his arms wrapped around them. He had his head on his knees and seemed to doze. 

Anthony threw the cushion, it landed on the pedestal and the young prisoner startled and stared in his direction. He shrugged, “Even a dog gets a cushion,” he said and closed the curtains again.

Later that night Anthony woke. He had heard something and was disoriented at first. But then he remembered his prisoner. He went to the drapes and looked out into the room. It was cold, the fires didn't burn anymore, it was dark but in the moonlight from the window he could see the young man lying on his side, his head on the cushion, his arms around his body and shivering. With a sigh he rose, took one of the thick, woolen comforters, went to the pedestal and covered the prince. He didn't wake up. Smiling Anthony went back to his bed where he fell asleep after only a few moments.


	5. Chapter 5

**10 days earlier**

 

Two weeks ago Baron Jacques from the house Duquesne had ordered his troops back. He was the last and Clint had cursed. Now it was only him and about two hundred men, many of them injured. The woods gave them an advantage but it wouldn't take too long till the Stark would send relief troops and then they were fucked. But it was important to hold Seyan. The mountains were filled to the brim with resources. Iron, silver, gold, diamonds and most important, the Stark didn't know about it. It was the biggest secret in this country and everyone who worked there, had to swear on the gods' names to not tell anyone. His only problem so far was, that he didn't _have_ the men to lift those treasures. So it was absolutely necessary to hold this province. 

“Highness, there is a man in the woods.” Clint looked up from the map when Lord Jasper, one of his most trustworthy confidants, entered the tent he lived and worked in. 

“There are many men in the woods,” Clint smiled sadly and Jasper nodded, also smiling.

“A man in the Stark's messenger uniform and with a white flag is in the woods. We stopped him. He said, he has a message for you and only for you. He said, he's not allowed to give it to someone else.” Clint pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Did you check him?” He looked up and Jasper nodded. 

“Lady Natasha did. He didn't have anything with him, except the dagger all the messengers are allowed to carry. She took it away.”

Clint knew, if Natasha had checked him this guy didn't have any hidden weapons left. 

“All right. Let him in,” he leaned against the table and folded his arms in front of his chest. Jasper left and a few seconds later he and Natasha were back with a young man, even younger than Clint himself. 

“Highness,” the boy said and licked his lips nervously. He knew, that he had a reputation amongst the Stark's men. He and his archers had killed a lot of them and he could see a hint of fear cross the messenger's face. Clint waited and didn't say a word, just lifted his brow and the boy swallowed and, carefully, took a letter out of his bag to hand it over. 

The prince took it and looked at the seal. It was the Stark's. He nodded at Jasper. 

“Lord Sitwell, would you accompany this man to the mess and give him something to eat and to drink.” It was common to offer a messenger food even if he just had to cross the street. But Clint knew, that Jasper would take care that he didn't see too much from their encampment despite the knowledge that all messenger lived by their codex only to deliver their message and never talked about the addressor or the receiver. 

When they had left and only he and Natasha were in the tent he sighed and looked at the letter. 

“Don't you open it?” Natasha asked and Clint bit his lip.

“I don't want to,” he admitted and sat down. “I have a good idea what is in it.” 

“Surrender negotiations?” She asked and the young man nodded. He wiped over his face and leaned back. After a few more seconds he finally took the letter and broke the seal. When had read it he handed the letter to his best friend and she read it as well. 

“He can't be serious! I knew that he has some... megalomaniac fits but this? He can't expect you to accept this? This is...”

“I have to.” Clint interrupted her and she stared at him disbelievingly. He was pale like a sheet and his lip trembled slightly. 

“What? Have you lost your mind? This is... Clint! He can't expect you to hand yourself over!” Natasha pointed at the letter furiously.

“But you see that he _can!_ And do you know why? Because he's right! I can't hold this province and sure as hell not the rest of the country with the rest of my men. Even if I get all the remaining troops to the border in time then Belianka and the rest of the country is completely unprotected. And... and he has my parents.”

“Clint, forget them. The people are glad that they are gone. I know, they are your family but your father is an awful king and he hates you. He got into even more attacks since he listened to Chisholm and Duquesne. And now see where they are. The people love you. You care about them.” 

“But I can't protect them anymore. They are dying! Each day we're here to fight the Stark and his troops we lose more people. The men are too old, too young, in the troops, dead or maimed and the women can't do all the work alone. The people are dying, they are starving. There's only one thing I can do to protect them and the Stark knows it.” 

“So you want to go to his castle and hand yourself over? He will kill you!” Natasha had to concentrate not to yell at him. 

“No, he wrote he... he will let my parents go. They have to go to exile and my country will be added to his but he will protect the people and he will fight against the barons.”

“You _trust_ the Stark's word?” She shook her head and started pacing.

“What chance do I have, Natasha? Tell me, what are my alternatives? I keep fighting and we lose at the end of the months and even more men are dead _and_ the Stark will take the country by force. I keep fighting and manage to keep the Stark out of the country for some time but then the barons attack us and we can't win against them. I accept the Stark's offer, the war stops, the men can go back to their families, my parents are free.” He wiped over his face with one hand.

“Clint, you can't trust him. He will kill you. You shot his father and he won't let you go unpunished.” Natasha knelt before him and took his hands. 

“What does it matter? I'm just one person and there are more lives on stake,” he murmured. 

“Gods, this is as if I tried to talk to a wall. Listen carefully. If you go to the Stark's castle he will kill you.” 

“He gave me his word.” 

“It's the Stark, goddammit! You can't trust his word!” Natasha rose and paced again.

“Thor trusts his word and I trust Thor,” he said and Natasha stopped, looked at him as if he had grown a second head.

“You _want_ to trust him!” She stared open-mouthed. 

“He's... he's raised as a future king. And I... I was never meant for this. You know what father had planned for me. This should be Barney's place. He was meant to be king. I... I don't... I can't do this, Natasha!” Clint yelled now.

“No... please don't tell me... please don't tell me it's because of... of that unhealthy crush you have!” She blurted out disbelievingly.

“No!” Clint blushed violently. “I don't have a crush,” he added quietly.

“You've met him _once_...”

“...twice...”

“... and that was in a battle, a few seconds after you've killed his father...” 

“...and on Thor's designation...” 

“... where he swore that he will kill you!”

“Then so be it.” 

“Clint, I can't let you do it. I've given my word to you to protect you. You've saved my life. I can't let you go to him. Oh, and by the way, I _know_ that you met him on crown prince Thor's designation. He passed you without even noticing that you've been there. I stood beside you, remember?” 

“Natasha, I know that this situation is fucked up. And if there were any chance to protect my people in another way I would do it. But there is no other way. It's either I give myself to him or we all die. And I can't and I won't let that happen. I'm just one man and... It's the only way.” She didn't know and he wouldn't tell her about the _other option_. 

“Clint, please...” Natasha tried again but the prince shook his head and rose, took a parchment and started to write. He sealed the letter afterwards and looked at his best friend.

“Can you please call the messenger? I have an answer for him to deliver.” 

“Yes, my lord.” Natasha answered formally. 

“Oh, and please sent for Phil. I want him to accompany me.” 

“Yes, my lord,” she repeated and left the tent. Clint sat down again. His hands trembled. He had ten days left. If he didn't surrender himself till full moon the war would continue and all his people would suffer. Clint swallowed but then he took another parchment. He would write his last will. Just in case.


	6. Chapter 6

Clint woke with a start. He yelped when he found his legs tangled in... a blanket? Where did that blanket come from? The Stark's bed was empty, the man was gone and Clint carefully looked around, once again taking in his surroundings. The arrow still lay on the table where he could see it. When he moved he could hear the clinking sounds of the chains and he sighed. But now he realized that he had another problem. He was chained to the Stark's bedroom wall... and he had to relief himself. His bladder was full but there wasn't anything he could use. 

As if he had read his mind the other man entered the room. He was in the bathroom and smirked, when he saw his prisoner blush. He was still dressed only in a dressing gown and Clint couldn't resist to take a closer look. Contrary to popular belief the Stark wasn't the weakling everyone assumed, he was well muscled and Clint's mouth got dry once again. He had sparse body hair and a nice cock in a nest of dark pubic hair. 

“Are you hungry?” the Stark asked and came over to him but stayed out of his reach. He cocked his head and Clint swallowed and his eyes snapped up to the Stark's.

“No,” he said and the older man pursed his lips when he saw him shifting. He nodded, once, turned around and rang a bell. It didn't take too long and a guard entered the room and bowed.

“My lord,” the man said and the Stark sat down on an armchair.

“Shorten his chains. And fasten his feet. I don't want him to move.” The man bowed again and came over to Clint. So, it would start now, he thought and his breathing sped up. He didn't struggle when the man shoved him back to stand close to the wall. The guard attached the manacles he had around his wrists to the rings and removed the chains completely. When he bent down Clint discovered that there was another ring on the floor, hidden by the pelts. The guard tied his feet to the ring and Clint couldn't move too much anymore. He pressed his lips together when he saw the smug smirk on the Stark's face and the man finally came over and stepped onto the pedestal. 

“What... what do you want?” Clint couldn't repress. He felt adrenaline flood through his body and he clenched and unclenched his hands. The Stark stood very close right now and looked down at him, the smirk still on his lips. And he had very nice lips, Clint just thought.

But then he felt a hand on his stomach, gliding downwards and his breath sped up once more. He felt the hand press at his abdomen. 

“You need to relief yourself,” the Stark murmured and Clint swallowed. He already knew that. But if he had to stay on this pedestal, on this pelts he'd prefer to not soil them. Just when he opened his mouth the other man stepped back down and left the room only to re-emerge a few seconds later with a chamber pot in his hand. 

Clint looked disbelievingly at the pot. He didn't really expect him to do it _here_ , in front of him. But apparently that was exactly what the man had in mind. He placed the pot in front of Clint and stepped to his side and before he could react the older man had taken his cock and directed it at the pot. He had to bite at his tongue to not yelp when he felt the cool hand on his privates.

“I... I... can't...” Clint pressed through his teeth. But the Stark only licked over his lips and looked at him, looked in his eyes and Clint saw the deep, brown pupils and swallowed again. To have someone – this man! - so close wasn't helpful at all. The Stark opened his lips a fraction and Clint's breathing sped up even more but then he felt his other hand on his abdomen again, pressing in, pressing at his bladder and he started to massage it a bit and Clint bit his lower lip. 

“Come on, _Clint_ , let go,” he murmured quietly and with a tiny yelp he couldn't resist any longer. To hear this man say his name felt so intimately, even more than his hand on Clint's cock, and finally he let go. It was embarrassing, the relief so exquisite and he leaned his head back against the wall. He couldn't look in his eyes right now. “Good boy,” the Stark murmured again very quietly when he finally was done. 

The older man stepped back with a smirk and went back to the bathroom, the pot still on it's place in front of Clint. He closed his eyes but he was still bright red, his breathing calmed down and he leaned his head against the wall when he heard the door to the Stark's suite. 

“My lord,” a maid entered and bent her knee despite the Stark not being in the room. She threw a quick glance in Clint's direction and blushed violently. The tray she held in her hand shook slightly.

“Place it on the table,” the Stark said and came back. He finally wore some clothes, tight black leggins and a red shirt. 

“Maureen, I want you to give my prisoner a sponge bath,” the Stark said and sat down at the table with the tray. The maid managed to get even more red but she bowed her head and headed to the bathroom.

“You... you can't do that,” Clint pressed through his teeth.

“Why not?” The Stark lifted his brow and took a handful of grapes.

“It's not right to force her to do this.” 

“Do you want to stay in your own grime? Or do you want me to call the guards? They cleaned you very thoroughly, if I remember correctly.” Clint swallowed when he saw the older man suck at the grape before he bit into it. He chewed very carefully and watched the maid come back with a bowl filled with water and a sponge.

“No, but...” Clint started but the Stark raised a hand.

“You gave yourself to me, remember?” The man cocked his head again and sucked at another grape. The maid, Maureen, looked unsure but when the Stark gave her a sign with his hand she stepped up to the prisoner, put the chamber pot away and started to scrub him down. She didn't look at him and Clint hissed slightly when she was too rough with his privates. Clint looked at the ceiling, his lips pressed together and he waited till she was done.

It didn't take too long and when she was done and had removed the bowl and the pot the Stark sent her away. Clint was embarrassed.

The Stark smirked once again but then he took one of the plates, filled it with meat, cheese, bread, a few grapes and took one of the two mugs and came over to him. 

“Drink,” he said and held the mug to Clint's lips. At first he thought about to refuse but then, he didn't knew when he would get food or something to drink again, he opened his mouth, placed his lips on the mug and drank. It wasn't water as expected, it was ale. But the Stark didn't let him finish, he put the mug away and held a piece of cheese to his lips. Clint glared at him but when the older man lifted his brow he took the bite. He couldn't resist, he touched the Stark's fingers with his lips and the man locked his eyes with his. That had caught him off guard. Clint ignored his baffled glance and chewed slowly, savoring the taste of the cheese and when he had swallowed, the Stark took a grape. Once again he brushed his fingers with his lips and his eyes widened again. And now Clint could see the Stark swallow. He did it again and again, every time the man held a piece of food to his mouth he touched his fingers, with his lips, with his tongue. 

This time, when the Stark _fled_ out of his chambers it was Clint who smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tony's clothing](http://www.leben-im-mittelalter.net/images/stories/mittelalter/alltag/kleidung/nach-geschlecht/mann/maenner-mit-schnabelschuhen.jpg)


	7. Chapter 7

“Anthony! Will you listen already?” His head snapped up and he looked at General Rhodes.

“What?” He snarled and glared when he saw his friend smirk visibly amused.

“I've told you - for the sixth time – that Philip of the house Coul has arrived as you have ordered.” 

“What does he want?” He asked absentmindedly and looked around in his study. He really hadn't listened the last two hours and it was Steve who sighed audible now. 

“You've made him to the new administrator in Venia.” Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Why would I do that?” Anthony frowned and then he remembered that it was part of the deal that brought him Clint. 

“Anthony, I know that you really don't like this boring administrative stuff. But there are a few things that only you can decide. You're the king for heaven's sake.” Steve looked at him with his disapproving glance and Pepper bit her lips to not laugh.

“Is he here?” Anthony asked and now Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, Anthony. He is here.”

“And where exactly is he?” 

“He's waiting outside of the throne room for you.” General Rhodes spoke very slowly now.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Anthony spat now and rose. He heard a few sighs when he went into the other room. _Sometimes they are so unconcentrated_ , he thought but then he ordered the guards to let the man in. Anthony sat down at his throne and watched the man enter.

He had heard a lot of things about the infamous Philip of the house Coul. What he definitely not had expected was a middle-aged man with bland features.

“My lord,” the man said and knelt down on one knee, he waited a second too long but rumor says he once got pierced by a Jotun spear. Maybe he couldn't go down as fast as suitable.

“You are Philip of the house Coul.” Anthony stated but didn't let the man get up and he stayed on his knee.

“Yes, my lord.” He eyed the older man with pursed lips. He didn't seem to be in any way impressive and he wondered what this man had done to earn the reputation he had. They all say he's the best tactician around. But on the other hand, the Venian's lost the war. He couldn't be this good, could he? 

“Part of the deal was that you are going to be the administrator in Venia.” 

“Yes, my lord.” Anthony rose and went over to him. 

“You will report to my counselor, Lady Virginia. She will stay in contact with you and will tell you my orders. If there's anything you need to clarify she is the one you're talking to.”

“Yes, my lord.” 

“Be aware, administrator, that you are in this position because it was part of the deal with the prince. If you work against me or if you try something stupid like, bring back your king, it's the prince who pays the price.” Anthony stood behind him and looked down at his broad back.

“I won't, my lord.” 

“You may leave, administrator.” Anthony said and turned to go back to the study when he heard the man address him again.

“My lord?” He turned back to see the man still on his position but he looked at Anthony right now.

“What?” 

“The prince... he is all right?” The man asked and held Anthony's glance with his eyes.

“Why do you ask?” Anthony went back and loomed over the still kneeling man.

“I know him since he was a little boy. I've... I've raised him... so to speak. I just... I just want to know how he is doing.”

“He is doing fine.” 

“May I... I mean... would it be possible to visit him?” Anthony tried to read his face but this man didn't show any emotion. 

“No. He's mine. No one will see him.” He said and this brought a tiny reaction onto his face. It paled a bit. “Now you may leave.” 

“Thank you, my lord.” The man murmured again and finally rose and left. He watched the man, walking to the door. Did he limp a bit?

“Not interested, huh?” he heard a voice behind him when the door fell shut. He looked at Rhodes, saw his brow lifted in amusement. 

“I don't have to explain myself to anyone, General,” he grumbled and went back to the study.

“You will deal with... with administrator.” He had already forgotten his name but Pepper nodded. She hadn't expected anything else. 

“Of course, my lord.” She addressed him formally to acknowledge this instruction. “So. But now we have to go back to work, Tony. There's a kingdom to lead. What can we do against the Barons, now that they are our problem?” Pepper added and Anthony leaned his head back and groaned.


	8. Chapter 8

Anthony was more than eager to get back to his chambers this evening. He left the meal he usually had together with the nobles at court early and a few of them exchanged knowing glances. When the servant opened the door to his suite he swept into the bedroom and already fumbled with the clasps on his jacket. He looked around and found the younger man on his pedestal, sitting at the floor, his back against the wall, his knees bent and drawn to his body and his wrists lying on them. He had his eyes closed but when he heard the other man in the room he slowly opened them and watched him. 

When Anthony finally managed to strip out of the jacket he took a deep breath. He hated the confining formal wear. The young man's lip moved up a fraction when he saw the relieved expression on his face. Anthony watched him for a moment and his pale skin looked delicious in the wavering light of the chimney fire. He could see that the other man watched him as well and after another long moment he moved into a kneeling position, sat down on his heels, placed his hands on his thighs and cast his eyes down. Anthony's mouth got dry when he saw the proud prince in this submissive position. 

“Why are you doing this?” he couldn't restrain himself and the young man looked up at him. 

“You own me, my lord,” the prince murmured. “I've thought it would be appropriate.” 

“Are you hungry?” Anthony sat down on a chair near the fire but his eyes were still on his prisoner. He didn't wait for an answer, he just rang the bell and when the guard entered he ordered the man to send food for the prince. 

“Sir Philip of the house Coul was here today. He asked for you.” Anthony leaned back but didn't move his eyes away, still watched every move the prince made. “Why does he ask for you?” he leaned forward and there was a tiny streak of jealousy audible. 

“He's a friend, my lord. Only a friend,” the younger man looked at him again, this time he held his gaze. 

“He wasn't your lover?” Anthony tried to look unconcerned but again the prince could hear a tiny hint of jealousy. 

“No, my lord, he was not my lover.” He said and moved a bit to sit more comfortable. Then he added, his eyes cast down once more, “I wasn't allowed to have a lover.” 

Anthony's head snapped up and he swallowed again, watching the prince. He just opened his mouth to ask more questions when they got interrupted by Maureen. She held a tray in her hand and bowed. Anthony gestured in the direction of Prince Clint and the Maid understood. She placed the plate with meat, gravy and bread, a jug with mead and a mug on the pedestal and retreated. 

“Eat.” Anthony commanded and left the room to enter his bathroom. _He's untouched. Virgin. No one had touched him before. And now he's his. His!_ The thoughts whirled through his head while he stripped out of the rest of his clothes. He washed his face with cold water and put on his dressing gown. Silently he went back to the bedroom where he saw the prince devour the food Maureen had brought him. He hadn't gotten anything since breakfast and greedily he emptied the jug with mead. 

Anthony shoved the empty dishes away and sat down at the pedestal.

“Why were you not allowed to have a lover?” he asked and saw a muscle twitch at the young man's jaw. 

“My father promised me to Prince Loki of Jotunheim. He wanted to form a bond between our two countries.” 

“Why didn't you ask your fiancé for help when it was foreseeable that you're going to lose? You broke this promise by handing yourself over to me.” Anthony had to restrain himself forcefully to not touch the other man. He wanted him. Even more since he knew that he was virginal but he also wanted _him_ to beg him for release.

“I had to do what was the best for my people.” The prince looked up and locked his eyes with Anthony's and once again he was caught up in his beautiful eyes. “I couldn't give my country to the Jotuns.” 

“He is your fiancé and you give yourself and your country to your father's archenemy?” He still couldn't understand it. Together with the Jotun's they would have been able to defend the borders against his men, Anthony knew. 

“Have you ever met the Jotuns?” Prince Clint asked and cocked his head. 

“Yes, a few times.” Anthony nodded and he remembered Prince Loki. A good looking man, ruthless, and he wouldn't trust him if his life depended on it. It's said that he would sell his own grandmother to gain leverage.

“Then you know that they are cold, cruel, dishonest and merciless. I wouldn't want my people to have to suffer from their regency. I had two options. To ask Loki for help and hand my country over to him or to surrender to you. Both options contained the loss of freedom for me. But in the end I know that my people are safe with you.” 

“This was... very noble,” Anthony said and he saw the younger man with different eyes now. 

“I know, my lord, in your eyes, in the eyes of your people, I'm _just a son of the house Barton_ , untrustworthy, churlish, brute and I know that I was never provided in the line of succession but believe me, Philip of the house Coul taught me well. I know that the people's welfare is the highest duty of a true king. It may be that the only reason I had to lead my people was because my brother, the heir, was dead and my father a prisoner but that doesn't mean I didn't know what I had to do. And to hand my country over to the Jotuns, despite the promise my father had made, would have been wrong.”

“But you just confirmed the untrustworthiness of the Bartons by breaking the contract.” Anthony rose and started to pace. This fact could probably lead to problems with the Jotuns. He needed to write a letter to King Odin of Asgard. 

“Like I've said, my lord, I don't care about my reputation. It wasn't worth a shilling before. I know what the other kings think of my family. And now? Now I'm your property and property doesn't have a reputation.” He looked up and watched Anthony pace. “Or are you afraid that Laufey and Loki don't take this very well? Because I've heard the Stark doesn't fear anything. But as long as my people are safe I'm yours to do with whatever you want. If you want to give me to Loki it is your right to do so.” 

“I don't fear the Jotuns. We have an alliance with Asgard and they wouldn't want to get into a war with both of us.” Anthony stared at the young man when he heard the slight mocking in his voice. 

“You... maybe you should leave that door open.” The prince looked at Tony now with a really intense gaze. 

“No. No, I... you're mine.” Anthony glowered at the prince till he cast his eyes down. He bit his lip. He knew that he needed to talk about this with his aides. But he could do that tomorrow. He cleared his throat, went to the bed, grabbed a cushion and a comforter and gave both to his prisoner before he closed the curtains around his bed. It didn't take long and he heard shuffling, the clinking of chains and then it got quiet. He was his, _his_. Loki wouldn't lay hands on him. Never.


	9. Chapter 9

Clint didn't sleep this night. He lay on the pedestal, the cushion under his head, his body covered with the comforter that smelled like _him_ and tried to find sleep but his mind didn't let him. This evening, when the Stark finally came back after a long, boring day with nothing to do but sit there and stare out of the window he asked him strange questions and Clint had decided it would be easiest to put his cards on the table. He needed to. He had agreed to the Stark's conditions to protect his people and he wouldn't break his word. 

Phil was here. Probably to get installed as the administrator and to meet his new king. But why did the Stark ask him all these questions if he had a lover and stuff like this? All he wanted was to punish him for his father's death, wasn't it? He seemed quite upset when he told him about Loki. 

Yes, the Stark was right, he could've asked him for help, but fact was, Clint feared the other man. Loki was cold, heartless. He had met him on Thor's designation where his father had told him about his plan to form a bond between Jotunheim and Venia. He wouldn't tell anyone but when he saw him smirk at him, eying him up as if he was already his, he had shivered and wanted to crawl under his bed like he had done when he was a little boy and his father was angry at him. He had seen Loki treat his own servants like shit and he didn't want to have him in his country, taking over the reins.

No, it was better this way. The Stark had the reputation to be a fair king to his people, strict, but fair. And he had agreed to protect his people. Clint turned to lie on his side from where he could look at the huge bed. He had closed the curtains but he knew that he was in there, sleeping. 

Clint closed his eyes and tried to sleep again. He heard the Stark rustling in his bed and Clint sighed quietly to not wake him. There were a few things he didn't understand. Why was the Stark doing all this? Why keep him in his bedroom? Why naked? Why chained and on display? To embarrass him? He had killed his father, why not beating the shit out of him and lock him up in a dark cell? No, he had carefully touched him when he had to relief himself, he had fed him and despite Clint trying to provoke him he hadn't hurt him. The Stark had said he wouldn't do anything if he, Clint, didn't beg him to. Did he really think that he would beg for his punishment? But what if he goes too far one day? What if he decides that it was the appropriate punishment to hand him over to Loki now that he knew about it?

Clint turned around to lie on his back again. _Please, gods, everything but not Loki. I take every punishment he deems appropriate but not Loki._ He silently prayed. 

 

 

Anthony didn't sleep this night. His mind always switched back to 'I wasn't allowed to have a lover'. He was untouched. No one had had him before and now Anthony wanted him all the more. But he still wanted to break him, to beg him and then... _Then what, Tony? What will you do if he finally begs you? Would you agree? Would you deny?_ He asked himself and placed a hand over his eyes.

Loki of Jotunheim. Why had it to be him of all people? Now everything had changed. He had wanted to punish him, wanted to break him, wanted him desperate and now? Now he wanted to protect him. Why the heck did he want to protect him? He killed his father! He's a gutless murderer who killed his father not in an open fight as became for a knight, no he killed him with an arrow and he did not even gainsay it. Was it true? Was it true what Rhodey and Steve and Pepper had said? That he only send his offer because he wanted him? Because he had a... a _crush_ on him? Yes, the young Barton was attractive, very attractive for a Barton. And yes, he wanted to pop his cherry, wanted to be the one who took his virginity. But did he really want _him_? 

Anthony turned around and breathed hard before he moved silently till he could look through the small gap between the curtains around his bed. The prince lay on the pedestal, covered with the comforter and had his eyes closed. He probably slept and Anthony bit his lips. Yes, he was attractive he had to admit. Especially because he's a Barton and they... they aren't very attractive at all. Anthony bit his lip. He seemed so vulnerable right now, the heavy chains around his wrists, the long lashes touching his cheeks, the lips relaxed and... and plush? _No, no, no, no, no, concentrate, Anthony! He's the enemy. The only reason he's here is because you need to punish him for your father's death. And you hold him in your bedroom because he could disappear out of a jail before._ He thought and then he silently huffed. _Yeah, try to convince yourself. You know that it's not true. You know that you want him. You want to screw him. You want to have him writhing beneath you and you want him to scream your name in pure pleasure. That's what you really want. You want to... to woo him!_

But that wouldn't happen, would it? The prince was here because he wanted him to protect his people. He only had taken his father's place because he knew that he would have lost and then he, Anthony, would have conquered his country by force. He didn't want him.

_And the looks? The small touches with his lips? The submission? The... the fact that he came to you and not the man he was promised to?_

No, tomorrow he would send him down to the dungeon. It was better that way. He would talk to Pepper about a suitable punishment and then? _Then what?_


	10. Chapter 10

**Three years earlier**

 

Anthony hated the fact that he had to be here. He liked Thor, really. He was a nice guy, a bit too loud for his taste, but nevertheless a nice guy. He would even go so far as to say that he was a friend.

But Anthony really hated those events. His father had coerced him to attend and finally he had agreed. It was Thor's twenty-fifth birthday and therefor he was designated to be the crown prince and the legal successor to the throne of Asgard. It would be a huge feast – Asgardians were famous for their feasts – and many other kings and rulers were invited. 

King Harold and King Howard had to give their words to settle their quarrel for the time of their presence in Asgard and they both had agreed. Reluctantly admittedly but till now they upheld the agreement. 

Anthony, on the other hand, had already had an encounter with Crown Prince Charles Bernard of the house Barton. Only Thor's presence had averted an escalation. He just swept out of the salon, Rhodes and Rogers in tow, when he nearly collided with a boy and a slightly older girl. 

“Have a care!” he snarled and hurried back to the suite he and his family resided in during their presence. When he swept into the living room his father looked up and raised a brow.

“This damn bastard!” he cursed and started to pace. Steve and Rhodey stood behind them and fiddled nervously with their hands.

“Anthony? Is there something I need to know?” Howard asked and leaned back in his chair.

“No. I just had an argument. It's... it's nothing.” Anthony spat and flopped down in one of the chairs.

“Let me guess, it was Barton's son?” 

Anthony looked away and pressed his lips together when he heard his father sigh.

“You will go to King Harold and apologize for your behavior.” Howard said and Anthony glared at him furiously.

“My behavior? You must be kidding, father!” He yelled and glared at the king. “You can't expect me to grovel to a _Barton_? And by the way, it was him...”

“I can expect it and you will do as I say!” Howard interrupted him. “I have agreed to hold the peace and _you_ will not break _my_ promises, Anthony.” 

“Father, it was him...”

“I don't care. You want to be king once so act like a king and not like an ill bred brat! You will go to Harold and you will apologize like a future king, do you hear me!” 

“Yes, _father_ ,” Tony spat with venom in his voice and left the suite. And after a glance at each other Rhodey and Steve followed him.

 

 

Clint was on his way to the suite he shared with his family when he heard a familiar voice in one of the salons. Barney. And it seemed as if he was in a fight with someone. He looked at Natasha and she just shrugged. Curious as he was he went over to the salon but the moment he wanted to enter he nearly got knocked down. A man, a few years older than him, came out, stared at him for a second and then he snarled, “Have a care,” before he vanished. Clint couldn't resist, he had to turn his head and look after him. He swallowed. But Natasha beside him muttered something about _the damn Stark bastard_ who nearly knocked them down. _This was Anthony, the Stark?_ Clint swallowed again.

When he finally turned his head and looked into the salon he saw Barney, smugly grinning, and Prince Thor who seemed to be sad that this had to happen at his designation. 

Clint shook his head. He couldn't understand his brother. Their father had agreed to respect the peace and Barney did everything to sabotage this promise. He looked at Thor who just nodded at him. 

“Barney, do you know where father is? A servant said he called for me.” Clint asked but Barney just snorted. 

“Your father is in the gardens, prince,” Thor answered and Clint bowed his head to thank him before he left. He went together with his best friend and bodyguard Natasha down to the huge gardens the Asgardians had behind their castle. When he saw his father in one of the garden pavilions he turned to the slightly older girl beside him. 

“Can you find out if there's a place where I can practice? I don't want to get rusty,” he smiled through gritted teeth and Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“Sure,” she said and left. 

“You wanted to talk to me, father?” he asked when he approached Harold. He sat in a carved chair and talked to two other men. 

“Come here,” Harold gestured for him and Clint came over. He knew better than to refuse him. “Clinton, these are King Laufey and Crown Prince Loki of Jotunheim.” Harold glared at him and he bowed his head. “Sit down,” Harold commanded and gestured at an empty chair. Clint obeyed and he felt Prince Loki's eyes on him from the first moment he arrived there. 

“This is Clinton, my younger son.” 

Loki once again looked him over and Clint saw a small smirk at the edge of his lips before he turned to his father and nodded once. 

“We accept your proposal. As soon as he is of age the marriage will take place.” Laufey said and smiled at Harold. Clint swallowed when he saw the smirk on Loki's face again and a lump formed in his intestines. His father would marry him off to Loki! _Please, gods! Everyone but not him!_ Clint thought. He looked at his father and opened his mouth but a warning glance told him to not say anything wrong now. 

“It will be my pleasure, Prince Loki,” he forced himself to say and when the older Prince bowed his head he had to concentrate to not puke right here and now. His father nodded at him. At least he wouldn't be too mad about him that he had said something because it wasn't wrong. The two kings talked about the details of the bond they wanted to form with their marriage but Clint didn't listen. He sat beside his father, his eyes cast down because as soon as he lifted them he saw that Prince Loki smirked and stripped him with his eyes and he felt exposed under his gaze. But when Laufey and Loki finally rose and took their leave his father glared at him. 

“Did I allow you to speak?” he backhanded him and Clint once again cast his eyes down and swallowed. Harold didn't want to make a scene in King Odin's palace and so he just sent Clint away. When he was out of eye shot of his father he crumbled down and sat at the grass, breathed and felt the tears in his eyes. _Not Loki! Not Loki, please, not Loki!_ he begged the gods silently. He had never met the Jotun before but this guy had quite a reputation and he definitely didn't want to be an addition to his harem. And Loki – as well as the rest of his people – wasn't known for his gentleness, quite the contrary. 

“Are you okay?” he heard a voice and when he looked up he saw Natasha, a concerned expression on her face. 

“Yes,” he lied and he knew that she wouldn't believe him but he wouldn't tell anyone about his father's plans. Not now. Not as long as Harold didn't make it public himself. Or Laufey. “Do you have a place where I can practice?” he asked instead and Natasha nodded. She held her hand out to help him up and grateful he took it and then he followed her. 

 

 

Anthony was in the garden to find Harold. Thor, Steve and Rhodey were with him when he finally spotted him. He just had left a garden pavilion and was on his way back to the castle when Tony saw a young man leave hastily in the other direction. 

“King Harold,” Tony addressed him and he was glad that Thor agreed to accompany him so that he had a witness if something bad happened. The older man cocked his head and Tony had to think of a jackal when he looked at him. 

“Prince Anthony,” Harold said carefully. 

“I'm here to apologize for my inappropriate behavior towards your son Charles. I am sorry.” He said and he would've preferred to bite off his own tongue but his father had made it clear that he would impose sanctions if he didn't apologize. Harold looked at him for a long moment and then he nodded. 

“I accept your apology, Prince,” he said, turned and walked away. Thor smiled broadly and slapped his shoulder. 

“Well, now I can show you the new horses my father had bought. They are beautiful.” He gestured at the paddocks behind the gardens and Anthony sighed. 

“Fine.” Anthony, Steve and Rhodey followed the Asgardian Prince. But then he saw the young man who had been with King Harold again. He was in one of the quieter parts of the gardens and shot arrows at a target. Anthony had seen many archers in his life but none who had this kind of precision and range. The man was pretty, Anthony had to admit, and he wasn't sure but he thought he had seen his face before. He stood there and watched him shoot arrow after arrow at some targets and he never missed once. 

“That's Clinton of the house Barton, Harold's younger son,” Thor said and Anthony's head snapped up to him. _This? This beautiful young man should be a Barton? No way!_ he thought. “Come on, I'll show you the horses.” And reluctantly Anthony followed him.


	11. Chapter 11

As soon as the first light broke through the window Anthony wanted to leave his room without being confronted with the prince but when he opened the curtains of his bed he saw the younger man sitting with his back against the wall and already awake. He watched him.

“Good morning, my lord,” the prince greeted quietly and started to move. 

“You don't have to do this,” Anthony said but he didn't stop till he knelt. The prince looked up at him and Anthony felt his mouth go dry and some blood rerouted to lower body parts. He tied his robe around him and went to his bathroom. 

“You can do it,” he murmured when he looked at his own face in the mirror. “You can send him to the dungeon.” But then he looked down at his traitorous cock who was very interested in the naked young man in his bedroom. “Fuck!” He cursed and was thankful that no one was here to see him like this. No one except said man in his bedroom.

He squeezed his erection in his pants, cursed at it a few times silently but his shirt masked the bulge enough to be able to sit in his room and have breakfast. Maureen waited with a tray and when Anthony nodded she put one plate and one mug onto his table and placed the other one on the pedestal. She bowed and backed out. Anthony felt the prince look him over and he wasn't sure but was that a small smirk on his face? He sat down in his favorite armchair, crossed his legs and started to eat but when he saw that the prince didn't touch the food he lifted a brow. 

“What's wrong? You don't like the food?” But the prisoner just looked in his direction, a strange, unreadable expression on his face. Anthony raised his brow again and then he called for the guard. 

“Shorten his chains,” he ordered and the prince rose in a fluid motion, went back to the wall and let the guard tie him. 

When the man left his room Anthony stepped up onto the pedestal with the plate in his hand. He stopped in front of the prince and looked at him and saw the younger man swallow but when Tony took a piece of the cheese from the plate and held it to his lips he parted them obediently and took the food. Anthony's mouth got dry again and he waited till the prince had swallowed down the cheese before he took a fig and held it up for him and this time, when he took the fruit, he could feel his lips brush over his fingers, like last time. The prince still looked at Anthony, held his eyes with his. Anthony licked his lips but then he took a piece of meat and brushed his lips and the prince again took it. 

When he had swallowed it and opened his mouth just a tiny fraction Anthony realized, that they were only inches apart and he could see the younger man's eyes widen a bit. He felt his own lip twitch when he moved forward as in trance and he closed his eyes when soft, warm lips touched his very carefully. He felt his own mouth responding, opening and inviting the younger man in, felt his tongue touching his and he realized that he was the one who moaned. He placed his hand behind the other man's head, and intensified the sensation, closed the gap between them and pressed his body against the prince's and he felt the strong muscles ripple under his skin. He let the plate fall down to the floor and cupped the other man's cheek with his now empty hand, stroked his cheek with his thumb while still kissing him ferociously and possessively, he licked into his mouth and claimed it, the hand he had behind his back slowly traveling down over his body, along his flank till he heard him moan as well. 

And then Anthony's brain started to work again. He broke the kiss heavily panting, stepped back and licked his lips. The prince looked at him with this damn unreadable expression on his face but his lips were swollen from the kissing and he panted quickly. Anthony caught himself touching his own lip with his index finger, savoring the sensation of the prince's lips there. No one said anything, they both looked at each other for a long moment and then Anthony stepped back from the pedestal and left he room hastily. He didn't see the prince sag down in his chains anymore. 

 

 

_Great, Clint!_ he scolded himself the moment he was alone. _Really great work, idiot!_

He sagged down, leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. _What the fuck did you think to just kiss him! You know that he doesn't want you, dammit! You've embarrassed him, idiot!_

He heard the door again and Maureen came in, still beet red whenever she saw him buck ass nude and tied up. She started to collect the food Anthony had dropped on the pedestal but when she wanted to leave Clint made a small sound in his throat and she looked at him again. 

“Sir?” 

Now it was Clint's turn to blush and he bit his lip before he managed to ask her for help.

“What do you need?” she furrowed her brows and bit her lip but Clint shook his head. She thought he wanted her to help him flee.

“No, not that.” He turned his head and looked at the chamber pot beside the pedestal and blushed even more. “That, please,” he said and she nodded and stepped down to fetch the porcelain bowl. She didn't touch him, she just held the bowl and looked away while Clint relieved himself. When he was done she carried the pot away to the bathroom and brought it back a few minutes later, empty and rinsed. She cleaned the pedestal around him before she took the two plates and mugs and hurried out of the king's suite.

Clint had to stay in this position for a few more hours, the chains were too short to move away and the blood already left his arms some time ago when suddenly one of the guards entered the room and stepped onto the pedestal. The man smirked at him and Clint swallowed but there wasn't anything he could do when the guard touched him. He flicked his thumbs over Clint's nipples and when he tried to move away he felt the other man press his hand against his stomach. 

“Don't...” Clint started but he man only put one hand over his mouth. He smirked again and Clint felt a lump in his stomach and a sharp jolt of fear in his intestines. 

_Did Anthony send him to punish me?_ he thought and tried to get away from the man's hands, roaming over his body. _But he said he wouldn't do anything to me till I beg him_.

The guards hands moved over his chest, once again teasing and twirling his nipples and that hurt. Clint groaned and the man chuckled, moved his hands over his side to his hips and then one of them slid over his stomach down to his cock. He grasped it with one of his hands and grabbed Clint's balls with the other one, squeezed them, rolled them in his hands while Clint tried to get away from the painful grip. 

“Please...” he begged again but the guard shushed him with the bad imitation of a kiss. He just pressed his lips against Clint's and it was nothing compared to the kiss he exchanged with Anthony. This was meant to hurt, to humiliate him. He felt the man's tongue enter his mouth but when he tried to bite him the guard squeezed his balls again and Clint screamed. The man chuckled again. 

“Aw, don't be like that, pretty boy. Let's have some fun...”


	12. Chapter 12

“... and then we're going to divide your kingdom in three parts and give one part to the Jotuns, one part to the Barons and the last part to the Emperor, what do you think, Tony?” Pepper said and finally Anthony looked up, his fingers still touching his lower lip.

“Huh?” He frowned and Pepper sighed, Steve shook his head and Rhodey pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“You didn't listen. Again.” Pepper huffed and Anthony glared at her. He still hated the politics but it was a necessary evil. 

“I did listen,” Anthony said and raised his brow when Steve threw his arms in the air. 

“We were talking about a military strategy to secure the new part of your kingdom, Tony. And sometimes it would be helpful to get some input from you. I mean, you are the king after all.” 

“Yes, yes... I will listen,” he sighed and sat up in his chair, looked at the map they had on the table and tried to figure out what kind of tactic Rhodes had in his mind when he stared at the small figures at the map.

“Steve, James, would you please leave us alone for a moment?” Pepper asked and the other two men rose and left the room. Anthony leaned back again and stared at the ceiling. 

“Tony, what's wrong? You're completely zoned out.” Pepper took the chair beside his and sat down.

“He kissed me.” Anthony turned his head and looked at Pepper. 

“The prince? _He_ kissed you?” 

“No, Emperor Nicholas! Of course the prince,” Anthony snapped and when he saw the hurt expression on Pepper's face he sighed. “I'm sorry.” 

“What happened?” 

“I have no idea. One moment he looked at me and the next moment he... he kissed me.” Anthony wiped his hand over his face. “What does that mean, Pepper?” 

“Wait, he was close enough to be able to kiss you? What if he had attacked you?” Pepper frowned and sat down beside him.

“He couldn't do anything, he was chained close... damn!” He sat up and grabbed the bell. A servant opened the door immediately and knelt.

“My lord?” she asked.

“Go up to my chambers and tell the guard to lengthen the prisoner's chains.” 

“Yes, my lord,” she said and left the room.

“You let him chained close to the wall the whole time? Tony, we're here for hours!” Pepper shook her head disapprovingly.

“I know, gods, I know. I'm an evil person,” he leaned forward and placed his head on the table. 

“I guess you have it bad for him,” Pepper said and placed a hand on Anthony's head and she felt him snort more than she could hear it.

“Really? I haven't noticed,” he replied, the sarcasm dripping with each word.

“Tony...” She started and he sat up, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

“We have another problem, by the way. His father had promised him to Loki of Jotunheim.” 

Pepper's eyes went wide. “Really? Oh gods, is this man crazy? I mean, no human right in his mind would promise a child to the Jotuns! At least not a male child. How can he not know what they do to men in their harems?” 

“Oh Pepper, we're talking of Harold. This man is crazy as long as I can remember. But that's not the problem. The problem is, that now the Jotuns are involved in all this,” he gestured at the map and Rhodey's little pewter figures.

“We should call the other generals as well. Generals Stane may not be a nice person but he's a great tactician and together with Steve and Rhodey we should find a proper solution for both, the Barons and the Jotuns.” Pepper said and Anthony nodded, looked at the map and the small figures that represented troops. 

“Is this... this... administrator... still here?” he looked up and Pepper raised her brow.

“Philip of the house Coul. And yes, he's still here.” 

“There are rumors that he's a great tactician, too. I want to talk to him. Can you arrange that, Pep?” 

“Sure. I'll send Parker.” She rose and left the room for a few minutes while Anthony still looked at the map. The Northern Barons had quite some men under arms and only the fact that a few of them were still quarreling with each other held them back to attack right now. On the northwestern border were the Jotuns. Their standing army wasn't as big as Anthony's but he knew that they could levy troops easily since all of the Jotun men and lots of the women had to do military service for at least five years. On the other hand, the Jotuns had an agreement with King Odin of Asgard and he wasn't sure if they would risk to involve the Asgardians. On Venia's eastern border was Xaveria but King Charles XI. said he didn't want to get involved in Harold's conflicts, now Anthony's conflicts. At the moment it looked like a stalemate. 

When he heard the door he looked up to see Steve and Rhodey come back but before they could close the door a young servant stopped them and knelt down.

“Forgive me, my lord. I've heard screams from your chambers,” the boy said and Anthony looked at Steve and without another word they hurried out of the room together. When they were at his suite the guard who should be there wasn't on his post but the door was slightly ajar. Steve, as the head of Anthony's personal guard, opened the door, his sword drawn. He didn't have a weapon with him but in his suite he had his sword and before they entered the bedroom Anthony grabbed his weapon as well. 

He could hear a painful groan and a man chuckle. “Yes, that's it, Barton,” he said and Anthony nearly lost it. With their swords in their hand Steve and Anthony entered the bedroom to find the prince, kneeling at the pedestal and his hands now chained to the lower rings, the guard in front of him. Anthony made a step in his direction but Steve just shook his head and went over, placed the tip of his sword in the guards neck and the man stilled immediately.

“Step back,” Steve said, quietly, but Anthony heard the anger in his voice. 

“I... I can explain it...” the man stuttered and Anthony went around him and saw his wet dick hanging out of his pants. The prince coughed and panted heavily. Anthony turned to the guard and backhanded him so hard that the man fell down from the pedestal and landed on his ass. Steve was right there, pointing his sword at his throat. 

“I'm curious about your explanation. What do you think justifies to defile your king's property?” He spat and the man paled. 

“He... he killed my father, he killed my brothers and my son.” The man stammered and looked at the arrow that still lay on a table nearby.

“Get him out! I will deal with him later!” Anthony snarled and Steve grabbed the man at his neck. He dragged him out of the room but left his keys on the table beside the arrow. 

When they were alone he turned to the prince, who still knelt beside the wall. Anthony took the keys and opened the chains. 

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly and looked the younger man over while helping him up. He saw the split lip he had, he saw blood on his shoulder and he saw tears in his eyes, remains from suffocating on the guards cock.

“Thank you,” he croaked and Anthony was as angry as rarely before. He helped the prince down from the pedestal and into an armchair. 

“I'm sorry,” he said and the prince looked at him and frowned. He just opened his mouth to speak when they both heard steps from the door and Anthony looked up to find Bruce in the doorway. 

“Captain Rogers sent me to look after the prince,” he said and Anthony nodded. Bruce came over and set to work. Anthony stepped back and watched from the other side of the room, already planning what he's going to do to this bastard who hurt him, but when he felt the prince's eyes on him he looked up. The prince held his gaze for a long moment before he bowed his head, mouthed 'Thank you' and then he smiled.


	13. Chapter 13

“What did you do to him?” Clint asked quietly as soon as the Stark was back. After the healer had arrived the king took his sword and left his room. Bruce, the healer, didn't put the chains back on him and so he waited, sitting in the armchair and covered with a sheet, for the Starks return. The older man stopped for a few seconds when he saw him not on his pedestal but then he just sat down on the other armchair. 

Clint could see his eyes wander through the room and to the arrow, still in the same spot where he had left it and then back to him. 

“He got what he deserved,” the Stark said and Clint furrowed his brows. “Tomorrow the man will lose his hand and he can thank the gods that the hand is everything he's going to lose.” The man's expression darkened and Clint swallowed. One could think he really cared about him. The Stark watched him, he felt his eyes on him and he turned his head to return the look. 

“I am sorry for what he did. He told us that he has lost his relatives in the Battle of Caragena and he saw his chance to take revenge.” The Stark explained. 

“So you didn't send him?” Clint asked and he cursed himself the moment he had said it when he saw the Stark's expression darken again.

“What kind of man do you think I am?”

“I'm sorry, I didn't...” Clint started but then the Stark sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No, you don't have to be sorry. It's my fault. I didn't... I have promised that nothing would happen to you unless you ask for it and this promise was broken by him. If someone has to be sorry then it's me.” 

“Why do you do that?” Clint asked and the Stark looked at him for a very long moment before he shrugged. They both sat in the armchairs and stared into the dying flames in the fireplace.

“Why are you here?” the man suddenly asked and Clint didn't understand. 

“We had an agreement, remember?” he asked and the Stark cocked his head.

“No, I mean, you've been here in my room, unguarded, unchained and rumor says no jail is able to hold you and after all what happened... You could've gone by now.” 

“We had an agreement,” Clint repeated.

“So you are true to your word?” He seemed surprised by this fact. 

“Because I am who I am? I am not my father and I am not my brother. When I give you my word I tend to keep it.” Clint couldn't contain a tiny streak of disappointment.

“So... when I order you to answer a question honestly... you would do it?” The Stark asked and Clint swallowed but he nodded after a moment.

“Yes... my lord,” he said and licked over his lips. He could feel a lump form in his intestines and his mouth got dry.

“Why did you kiss me?” Clint closed his eyes. He knew that this question would come but now... to hear it and to have to answer it... once again he licked over his lips.

“Because I wanted to.” He just said and the Stark looked at him with a strange expression on his face. He leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees and looked at him again. 

“Why? I want to know the reason.” Clint leaned his head against the backrest and closed his eyes for a second before he answered.

“Do you remember the day before Thor got designated to be King Odin's successor?” He asked and the Stark nodded slowly. “That was the first time we met.” 

“We _met_ there?” The Stark asked and Clint closed his eyes. Of course he wouldn't remember him, he only saw him for the glimpse of a moment while he nearly knocked him over.

“Yes, after your fight with my brother you left the salon and ran into me.” 

“That was you?” The Stark cocked his head and seemed to try to remember. “There was a red haired girl with you.” Well, at least he remembered Natasha.

“Natasha. She is... was my friend. That was the first time I've seen you and it was the moment I...” he stopped, swallowed, licked over his lips. “Natasha said I have a crush on you since you nearly knocked me over.” Clint felt the heat rise in his cheeks and he knew that he was beet red.

“Is that true?” The Stark asked and his voice sounded different, strangled. He still looked at him and when Clint nodded the man rose from his armchair and held out a hand for him to take. He hoisted him up and was suddenly close to him, very close and Clint could feel the sheet he held pulled away. He felt a hand on his hip and when he opened his mouth to protest the Stark's lips touched his. 

He was shocked for a second but then his brain shut down and instinct took over. He opened his mouth and the Stark's tongue entered his mouth, touched his and Clint felt his brain melt away. He carefully placed his own hand on the Stark's shoulder and moved a few inches in his direction, felt their bodies touch like they had done this morning and he really liked it. The Stark's hands held him in position, one on his hip, one on the back of his head and he didn't seem to intend to ever break the kiss and Clint didn't want that either. His lips were soft and his tongue demanding, dominating but not aggressive, his hands were gentle and Clint closed his eyes. He had no idea how long they were locked like this but when the urge to breath properly finally took over they parted and panted hard but both didn't step back even if the Stark released Clint and he could have if he had wanted to.

It was the first time that he could take a really close look at the other man's eyes, the warm brown and the tiny wrinkles around them, and he couldn't resist to move his hand to the king's face to touch the soft hairs of his beard.

“This is...” Clint started and the Stark nodded. 

“... insane and...” he continued but then the older man cupped his face again.

“... we really shouldn't do this,” he said.

“You're probably right,” the Stark nodded and then their lips touched again, more demanding this time and Clint felt the Stark's hand again on his hip, moving over to his back and then down. He heard a moan and realized that it was him who moaned but he didn't want to break the kiss, he just placed his own hands on the older man's waist to hold him close. 

Clint didn't realize that he had walked backwards with the Stark steering him till he hit something with his legs and stumbled over. He found himself on the huge bed, the Stark looking at him, hungrily, and he leaned over him.

“What do you want?” he asked quietly and Clint reached up, took his hand and tried to pull him close. 

“Please,” he gasped, his eyes still on the other man's and he licked his lips.

“Please what? Tell me what you want me to do?” The Stark said but still didn't move. 

“Please make me yours... Anthony,” he whispered and the Stark smiled.

“As you wish.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porn!! ;)

“As you wish,” Anthony murmured and looked at the prince beneath him on the bed. His mouth was so dry and he felt all his blood reroute to lower body parts. He still couldn't believe it but the prince really had said it, he had admitted that he wanted him and Anthony still felt his stomach doing somersaults at the mere thought. 

He leaned down, kissed him again, brushed his lips lightly with his own and the prince... Clint... opened his mouth to let him in, welcomed him... and touched him. He felt the younger man's hand on his waist. Anthony sat up, shrugged out of his jacket and threw it onto the floor and when the prince touched his shirt he removed it as well. 

“May I?” Clint asked and when Anthony nodded he felt his hands on his chest, touching his skin, curiously exploring and Anthony remembered that he wasn't allowed to touch anyone else so far. He brushed his nipples and felt them harden under his fingers and with another look into his eyes Clint leaned over and placed a kiss on Anthony's chest, moved downwards and licked testingly over his nipple. 

“Is that okay?” Clint asked and Anthony nodded, he leaned back, flat on his back and let the other man explore his body, let him touch him, kiss him, lick him. And he enjoyed it immensely. Clint was curios, Anthony could tell, but he was also skilled for someone who never had done this before. Anthony forced himself to lie still but when Clint started to open the laces of his breeches he moved his hips to get rid of them. And then they both were naked.

Anthony saw the younger man's erection and he placed a hand behind his back and kissed him, moved his hand slowly down along his body, over his flank and his leg and back before he touched his ass. He turned around so they could face each other and with a tiny pull their bodies touched and he could feel the prince's dick touching his. 

“Oh gods,” the prince moaned and Anthony chuckled into his mouth, their lips still locked. 

“Do you like it?” He asked and kissed his jawline, his throat, his collarbone and he felt the prince's hands on his hip and his leg. Once again he moved his body and their dicks rubbed at each other. 

“Oh gods,” the younger man groaned again, his voice shivering, and then he grabbed Anthony's shoulder, pressed his forehead against his collarbone, moaned... and came. Anthony felt him spurt against his stomach and stroked his back during the aftershocks of his orgasm, listened to his erratic breathing and kissed him when he calmed down a bit. 

“Sorry,” he murmured but Anthony placed a finger under his chin and _forced_ him to look up at him.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he smiled. “You've said you haven't done anything with another person and... it happens. We have the whole evening to do more, Clint.” He saw the younger man blush when he finally said his name for the first time.

But then Anthony felt a hand on his head and he opened his mouth to welcome Clint kissing him, let him touch his tongue and suck at his lips. Anthony still had his hand on Clint's back but now he moved it, touched his hip and went upwards, over his chest to his face and the younger man moaned again. 

“Let me pleasure you,” he whispered when they broke the kiss and he waited till Clint nodded before he sat up and pressed the other man carefully into the cushions. He leaned over him, kissed him again and then he moved along his body, licked over his left nipple and then the right, sucked them till he felt the prince arch under him. He felt his hands searching for contact and Anthony let him but he held his body down at his hips while he teased his sensitive nipples by turns and he smirked when he saw his soft cock starting to twitch again. Anthony couldn't resist, he had to touch it and Clint threw his head back when he slightly stroked over the soft skin. He placed kissed on the prince's abdomen, his navel, followed the cute happy trail down to his groin and then moved back upwards, his hand still slowly teasing his member, fondling his balls.

“Please,” the prince gasped and wriggled his hips and Anthony couldn't hold back a tiny chuckle. 

“What do you want?” he asked and stroked his hand along Clint's dick and the prince arched again.

“I don't know. Anything. Everything,” he panted and Anthony kissed him again before he went down and licked over the head of his cock. “Yes,” he whined and opened his legs. 

Anthony smirked and teased the slit of Clint's cock with his tongue, held his balls in one hand and rolled them and he really enjoyed the noised the prince made. It didn't take him too long and he was hard again and he wrapped his lips around his length and moved down. Anthony heard the younger man moan again and saw him grasping the sheets with his hands. 

“Oh gods, please...” he whined again and placed a hand on Anthony's head, “Please, Anthony...” 

He looked up and saw the trust in the prince's eyes and he had to concentrate to not come immediately. This was too arousing. 

“Tell me what you want,” Anthony whispered and Clint swallowed. 

“Make me yours,” he said again and Anthony groaned.

“You shouldn't say things like this or we're done before we started,” he chuckled but then he spread the prince's legs even more. He moved his hand between his ass cheeks and touched his entrance.

“Is this okay?” he asked and the younger man nodded, opened his mouth a fraction and moaned when Anthony breached him slowly.

“I need you to relax. Can you do this for me?” he asked and Clint nodded again. Anthony sat up, reached over him to the nightstand where he had a bottle with oil and on his way back he took a cushion with him. He placed it under his hips and couldn't resist to place a kiss on Clint's leg. 

“Are you comfortable?” 

“Yes,” Clint breathed and Anthony smiled, opened the bottle with oil and covered his finger with it. 

“Relax,” he said again and then he breached his hole again, circled his finger slowly and when the younger man was lose enough he shoved in to the first knuckle. “Don't clench up or I'll hurt you,” he murmured when he felt the younger man tense up. “Relax, everything is okay,” he placed his other hand on the younger man's cock and started to stroke him again and waited till he had adjusted to his finger. 

“Yes,” the prince nodded and Anthony moved deeper, searched for a certain spot and, “Fuck!!” found it. Clint panted harshly and moved his lips when Anthony touched his sweet spot again, brushed over it till the younger man was a shivering, babbling mess. 

“Relax,” he murmured, removed his finger, lubed the second one with the oil and breached him again. Carefully he shoved his two fingers in his body and started to work him open, scissored his fingers, brushed his sweet spot again and again and he saw the prince's cock twitch and leaking precum on his stomach. 

“How do you feel?” he asked and locked his eyes with Clint's.

“It burns,” the younger man admitted and Anthony cocked his head.

“Do you want me to stop?” 

“No... please, more,” he gasped and blushed and Anthony kissed the inside of his leg again. And then he added the third finger. Clint groaned and Anthony wasn't sure if it was pain or pleasure, probably both, but when he wanted to remove his hand the prince held it and shook his head. 

“Anthony,” he murmured and smiled and then he nodded. 

Anthony groaned, this was torture. But he sat up, settled between the younger man's legs and slicked his cock and the prince's hole. He placed the tip against his entrance and looked up at him and when he nodded again he pressed forward. Clint threw his head back, his eyes closed and he bit his lips and Anthony was pretty sure that it was pain he felt right now and stopped but the prince shook his head.

“Don't stop,” he gasped and as careful as possible Anthony moved forward.

“Relax, don't forget to relax,” he murmured. And then he bottomed out. He stayed still, waited for the younger man to get adjusted and he caressed his chest, his nipples, his cock and his balls.

“Please,” he panted and Anthony drew back. Slowly he started to move his hips and this time when the prince opened his eyes he didn't see pain, he saw pleasure and he leaned down to capture his lips in a fierce, demanding kiss. He angled his hips till he found the younger man's sweet spot again. Clint arched into his thrusts while he groaned. “Oh, yes, gods, yes!”

Anthony realized that Clint moved together with him and that they had found a rhythm that brought pleasure to both of them and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation and the knowledge that he was the very first man – and the only one if it was up to him – to see and feel and hear this beautiful young man in this way.

Anthony felt himself growing closer, felt the orgasm build up in him and he touched the prince's cock, grabbed it, stroked it and with a loud scream - “Anthony!” - he came, spurted over Anthony's stomach for the second time in a short time before he followed him over the edge and with a blinding, shattering force it hit him and he pumped his release into the younger man's body. He didn't know how but he managed to lean down to kiss the prince before he pulled out and laid down beside the prince. Both men breathed deep and panting before the prince turned to him, smiled, and kissed him. 

“Thank you,” he whispered and cupped Anthony's face. 

“Are you all right?” Anthony asked and angled for his shirt. When he had found it he started to wipe away the sperm from his and Clint's chest and Clint's channel.

“Yes. This... this was... I didn't know that this kind of... of pleasure existed. I mean... I know my father didn't want me to touch myself but... I did it anyways but... it was completely different... you know?” 

“Did you like it?” Anthony asked and threw the soiled shirt out onto the floor before he moved one last time to close the curtains around his bed. He laid down and pulled the younger man into his embrace.

“Greatly,” Clint admitted and placed another kiss at Anthony's lips before he turned around and wriggled his body so that Anthony spooned him. He reached over to take Anthony's hand and their fingers intertwined. “We do this again?” he asked and looked over his shoulder and Anthony couldn't resist another small chuckle. 

“As often as you want it,” he said and kissed Clint's shoulder. And then he pressed the younger man even closer to his body. “Mine,” he murmured and stroked over his stomach.

“Yours,” Clint confirmed and Anthony fell asleep with that smile on his face.


	15. Chapter 15

One of the privileges Pepper had over most of the people here at court, even the highest nobles, was that she had admission to the king's suite at any time. She didn't even need to knock. In fact, there were only three people at court that enjoyed this privilege. The other two were Captain Rogers and General Rhodes, all three the King's closest friends and counselors. 

So it was no wonder the guards immediately opened the door when she appeared. Quietly she entered the bedroom because she knew at this time the king would still sleep but it was important. But when she found the pedestal, where the prisoner should be, empty, she frowned. 

She knew that the prince got attacked by a guard the day before and that Bruce was here to look after him but was it possible that he could flee while Anthony slept in the bed nearby? Or maybe he... 

She swallowed hard and hurried to the bed, ripped open the curtains and then stared open-mouthed at the two men sleeping there. They both were naked but covered with the thick woolen comforters and Anthony had his arms wrapped around his prisoner. But it didn't seem as if he had forced the prince because his expression was as peaceful as Anthony's. 

“Tony,” she said and leaned over the two of them to wake him up but she didn't expect the prince's reflexes. Before she even could touch Anthony she found herself flat on her back and a hand at her throat, slowly suffocating her. 

“Stop! Stop, Clint! It's... it's okay, that's Pepper,” Anthony was awake now as well and he placed a hand at the younger man's arm who stared wide eyed at Pepper, his hand still on her throat. “It's okay,” he repeated and then the prince scrambled back and pressed his back against the headboard. 

“I'm sorry!” he said and Pepper could see his hands shaking now. “I... I didn't... I thought... It wasn't my intention to harm you...” he stammered and Anthony moved carefully up to him, placed a hand on his arm again and the younger man calmed down a bit. “Sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't want to do this, I'm so sorry,” he murmured.

“It's okay,” Pepper croaked, her throat aching. 

“Are you all right?” Anthony looked at Pepper now and she nodded. It was more the shock than real harm that made her shiver but when she saw the prince's reaction she could understand him. It was less than a day ago that he got assaulted while he was helpless and she had leaned over him. It had to appear threateningly in his eyes. 

“Yes, I'm fine.” Pepper nodded and looked at the prince now. “It is all right. I'm fine, prince,” she said and the younger man looked at her, his eyes still as big as saucers. 

“I'm sorry,” he said again when Anthony pulled him into an embrace. “I really didn't want to harm you but I've thought...” The prince stopped and bit his lip.

“... that I would attack you?” Pepper asked.

“Me? What? No, not me. Him,” he said and looked at Anthony.

“You've thought _I_ would attack Tony?” Pepper frowned and the younger man blushed.

“Well, I didn't know that it was _you_ , Lady Virginia. I've only realized that someone was leaning over me and...” he looked at Anthony again, “... and reacted.” 

“You... you wanted to protect me?” Anthony asked baffled and stared at the younger man in his bed who blushed, shrugged and nodded, all at the same time. And then he kissed him.

“Oh, goddess Deeva, what have I done to deserve this?” Pepper murmured and turned her head to look out of the window.

“So... what circumstances do I owe your presence?” She heard Anthony's voice and turned around to find him sitting beside the prince, his back at the headboard and his arm around his shoulder, grinning smugly while the younger man was red as a tomato and didn't dare to look in her direction.

“We... we have a problem, Tony,” she said and threw a tiny glance at the prince before she continued. “We got message from Crown prince Thor and...” 

Now the prince looked up at her, then at Anthony.

“What kind of problems?” Anthony asked and Pepper looked at her hands for a second before she continued. 

“Something happened. With his parents.” She nodded at the prince before she looked at Anthony again. 

“What?” Both men asked at the same time.

“What happened?” The prince seemed worried and he licked his lips nervously. 

“It seems that the guards that should protect them on their way to their new _home_ got murdered and the former King and his wife are... well... gone.” 

“They are... all of them?” the prince asked and swallowed hard. Pepper looked at Anthony and when he gestured to continue she took a deep breath.

“No. One woman survived. King Odin's men, who should accompany them, said, they found only the murdered guards and the seriously injured woman. They said it looked like a hard fight and the swords of the guards are bloodied but there are no dead attackers. They think, they have taken the bodies with them to obscure their origin.”

“Jotuns!” The prince hissed and Anthony frowned. “That's... they always do this. They take their own dead people away to, like you've said, obscure their origin. But that's their signature.” 

“Are you sure?” Anthony asked and the prince nodded.

“The day I came here... was there an ambassador present?” The younger man turned to Anthony and Pepper saw him frown again. 

“What...” Anthony asked but the prince shook his head.

“Please, Anthony,” he took his hand and then Anthony nodded.

“Yes, Duchess Maria from the Golden Hills was there. She's the Emperors ambassador in my country.”

“That's good. So the Emperor knows about my father's _retirement_ and my surrender. He knows about the deal and that my country is yours now.” 

“She sent a messenger the same afternoon,” Pepper confirmed and the prince nodded. 

“That means, whatever they do, Laufey, Loki and... and _Harold_ ,” she could hear the contempt when he said his father's name, “they are the aggressors.” He looked at Anthony and she couldn't hold back a smile. The _boy_ knew how to play the game.

“Well, I suggest that you two get dressed and we talk about the situation with Steve and Rhodey,” Pepper said and Anthony nodded. 

“Yes, we will be there.” 

Pepper rose and was on her way out of the room when she heard the prince's voice again.

“Lady Virginia,” she turned back and the younger man licked over his lips. “You've said, the guards found a severely injured woman...” 

“Yes. She has red hair and a spider tattoo at her arm.” Pepper told him what the messenger had told her. 

“Natasha! Thanks to the gods, she's alive. How... how severe is it?” 

“The Asgardian healers are the best, Prince. She will have to stay in bed for quite some time but she will survive.” The prince sighed relieved and Pepper turned to leave. On her way out she heard Anthony ask the prince who this Natasha is.

“She's my best friend and like a sister,” he said before she closed the guards closed the door behind herself.


	16. Chapter 16

**Five years earlier**

Clint rode as fast as possible, Phil and a handful of guards right behind him. He spurred his horse and ducked whenever the crossbow arrows flew over them. King Reed's men were after them and despite them wearing the official imperial ambassador clothes and having the banner with them the king's men chased them. 

He steered his horse beside Phil's – a dangerous maneuver at a full gallop – and yelled, “You have the documents still in your saddlebag?” 

“Yes, my lord,” Phil answered.

“Give me your supplies bag, I'm going to distract them. You have to get the documents back to my father,” Clint yelled over at the older man.

“I should distract them, prince,” Phil yelled back. 

“Wouldn't work. They're going to follow me, not you.” 

“My lord, I have to insist...” Phil tried again but Clint shook his head.

“That's an order!” Reluctantly Phil handed the supplies bag over and Clint put it over his shoulder. Then he raised his hand and showed three fingers to signal his men that three of them should follow him. And then they turned left while Phil rode straight on. 

Clint was right. Only five of King Reed's men followed Phil and the other fifteen turned as well to follow him. When he felt his horse tire he grabbed his bow, readied it and knocked an arrow. He turned around the horse and shot one of the men down before he jumped to the floor and shot another two but when suddenly half of the following soldiers aimed with crossbows at him he placed his bow at the ground in front of him. He saw that his men wanted to turn around but a gesture from him stopped them and they rode on. They should meet with Phil and protect the documents. 

Clint saw that Reed's men deliberated if they should follow the soldiers or if they should stay to take him prisoner but he was the more valuable price. At least in their eyes because it was more likely that he had the documents than that he had given them away. 

Two of the men came over to him and dragged him back, away from his bow and he flashed them the most shit-eating grin he could manage but he didn't struggle when they tied him up. As long as they were here with him as long Phil could get away with the documents. 

“Captain Storm, long time no see,” Clint mocked when their leader came over to him as well. He didn't answer, he just grabbed the bag and opened it... only to find a canteen with water and a few apples. 

“What is this!” Storm snapped and Clint shrugged. 

“Looks a lot like my provisions, what do you think? You can have them, I'm not hungry.” 

He barely managed to turn his head away when Storm backhanded him. Clint knew that his family was lower nobility in this country but since the king had married his sister he could take liberties others couldn't. No ordinary captain would've dared to backhand a prince, not even if they were enemies but no one would breath a word about it, Clint was sure. Storm gestured at one of the soldiers to search his saddlebags and at a few others to follow Clint's escaped men. 

“He doesn't have the documents in them, sir,” the soldier said and Storm backhanded Clint again. 

“Where are they?” he spat but Clint shrugged again. 

“It seems I don't have what you want. And you do realize that you've broken imperial law, right? I mean, you've recognized the official ambassadors attire? If you will take the time to check my saddlebag again you will find a letter from the Emperor that I'm a temporary ambassador and currently on a mission.” 

“My brother-in-law will decide about this. Get him on the horse!” 

 

 

King Reed of the house Richard didn't have time. He just let Clint lock up in his dungeon and said he would see to this case the moment he has the time for it. Currently he was busy fighting a war with King Victor of the house Doom. Their war was as old as the war between Clint's family and the house Stark. 

The dungeon was... well... a dungeon. Dark, damp, dirty and inhospitable. 

“Nice, your guestrooms leave nothing to be desired, Captain Storm,” Clint said, his voice thick with sarcasm and the blonde just grinned and slammed the door shut behind him. His cell was small and there was straw at the floor. In one corner he found a bucket, half filled with dirty water but at least the torchlight fell through the bars and he didn't have to sit in the darkness. 

Clint sighed and went back to the wall, searched through the straw for mice or bugs before he flopped down. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Later, when the warden brought some stale bread and half rotten apples he left it where the man had thrown it. 

“You should eat,” he heard a voice from the other cell after some time and when he looked up he saw a pair of green eyes between a red mane. 

“No, thanks,” he murmured. He knew he should eat and he knew that he wouldn't get better food but he really wasn't hungry right now and he wasn't desperate enough to eat that. At least, not yet. 

“If you don't want it...” the girl said and Clint went over, took the bread and the apples and gave it to her. She was the only other prisoner here, all the other cell doors were open and Clint saw her hungrily devour the bread. 

“How long are you here?” Clint asked and looked at the girl. 

“Depends,” she shrugged and bit into one of the apples, ignoring the fact that it was rotten. 

“Depends on what?” Clint was curious and he knelt down beside the bars that separated their cells.

“Which year do we have?” she stopped chewing the apple and Clint could see that she used to be pretty. 

“It's the thirty-fourth year of Emperor Nicholas's regency.” Clint said and the girl took another bite of the apple. 

“Then two years,” she didn't even leave the core and when she was done she licked her fingers. Now Clint could understand that she ate what they gave her. It was either eating this muck or dying.

“What's your name?” Clint asked and she looked away. “My name is Clint. Well, actually it's Clinton Francis but I like just Clint,” he said and smiled at her. 

“How do I know that you're not one of them?” she asked warily and glared at him through her hair. Clint couldn't repress a laugh and when she glared even more he bowed slightly. 

“I'm of the house Barton. Believe me, I'm definitely not one of them.” 

“That's why you get the special treatment?” the girl asked and Clint smirked again. 

“Yeah, lucky me, hm?” 

“Yeah.” She turned around to move back to her sleeping corner when Clint asked her again for her name.

“If you need to call me something you can call me Black Widow,” she said and laid down. Clint was stunned but when she refused to talk to him anymore he went back to the spot he sat before. 

 

 

In the last two weeks Clint had had more time to talk to Black Widow and they had formed a plan. It was risky but they decided to try it. It wasn't possible to get out alone but the two of them together could manage it. Clint would lure the warden into his cell, after all he was a prince and even Reed and his goddamn brother-in-law Storm would know that they couldn't let him die down here if they didn't want to deal with more trouble than they already had. And then Clint would have to get him to the bars where Widow would strangle him with a part of her garment. At first Clint hadn't been sure but then she had asked him if he had an idea _why_ she got called Black Widow and he had to admit that she had a point there. 

That was the easy part. They waited for Alfred, he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer and Clint nearly regretted that they had to kill him. But on the other hand, this bastard had peed into his drinking water more than once since he was here. 

One day Clint lay in his cell at the floor, immobile and after his third turn even Alfred realized that something had to be wrong. And due to the fact that he was dumb like a brick he didn't call for another warden, he just opened the cell, Clint turned around and kicked him in the chest and Black Widow strangled him. And _that_ was really impressive. The young woman, only a third of Alfred's volume, pressed her feet against the bars and with all her strength she strangled him. When the guy finally was dead Clint took his keys and opened her cell.

“I wasn't sure if you would keep your word, Barton.” She looked at him and Clint raised his brow. 

“I know, my ancestors discredited my family's name thoroughly,” he sighed and when she rolled her eyes he grinned. “Come on, let's get out of here. We overstayed our welcome here long time ago.” 

Together they managed to leave the castle and sneaked to the stables and they only had to kill two more guards, the others they could outmaneuver. It was dark outside when they closed the door behind them and threw the grooms tied up into an empty horsebox.

“Lucky! My boy!” Clint found a very familiar horse in the stables and he went over to his pretty sorrel. Lucky whickered happily. “At least they took good care about you, my boy,” he caressed his beloved stallion. 

“Come on, stop stalling, we're on the run, remember?” The Black Widow had saddled a nervous skewbald and held its reins. They had _asked_ one of the wardens in the dungeon for an escape and the guy had told them about a postern not far away from the stables. Widow threw a knife at the man who guarded the postern and he slumped down, bleeding. Together they led their horses out, careful to not alarm the guards at the battlements. 

When they were out of sight they mounted the horses and rode as fast as possible but they stopped when the sun came out and searched for a hideout.

“Natasha,” the Black Widow said when they hid in a small cave together with the horses and Clint just looked up, confused.

“Excuse me?” he asked and then she licked her lips. 

“That's my name. Natasha. I don't know the name of my house. I'm just Natasha.” 

“Pleasure to meet you, just Natasha,” Clint smiled and finally she shook his hand.


	17. Chapter 17

It was the first time in days that Clint wore actual clothes. The Stark... no, Anthony! Anthony led him through the confusing corridors to a room behind the throne room, the room where the actual decisions happen, he had told him. 

When they entered only Lady Virginia and Captain Rogers were there. Anthony took a seat at the table and started to read the message Crown prince Thor had sent him. Clint didn't know what to do and so he just sat down at a chair beside the wall to not stand around aimlessly. That moment the door went open again and General Rhodes came in. Clint knew him from the battlegrounds. The man stopped, looked at him, frowned and turned to Lady Virginia.

“What is _he_ doing here?” 

“I've brought him,” Anthony said and leaned back in his chair, challenging the General with a glance. 

“Of course you have, my king,” Rhodes said and then he smirked when Anthony rolled his eyes.

“So, what do we know so far,” the king asked when he finished reading and leaned back in his chair.

“We know that the Barton and his wife are disappeared, we know that all the guards you have sent with them are murdered, we know that only one woman survived but no one is sure if she is involved with their disappearance or not, we know that there are no dead bodies of the attackers are there so no one knows if there are dead attackers and we know that King Odin is really angry that his happened in his country,” Rhodes counted on the fingers of his hand.

“First, Natasha has nothing to do with their disappearance, she was only there because I have asked her to guard them and second, like I have already said,” he looked at Lady Virginia and she nodded, “I'm pretty sure that the Jotuns are involved. They always take their own dead with them,” Clint said and Rogers and Rhodes turned to him now. “Natasha is absolutely loyal. She wouldn't betray me. Never.” Clint rose and folded his arms in front of his chest. 

“How can you be so sure about this Natasha woman?” Rogers asked and mirrored Clint's stance. 

“She was one of Emperor Nicholas's Shields. She had saved his life when she was seventeen and gained her freedom. The reason I can be sure about it is because she gave me her word.” Rogers swallowed and looked at Rhodes and then at Anthony. Everyone knew about the Emperor's legendary Shields. Technically they are slaves, bought at a very young age and trained thoroughly. They are the best and they are known for their absolute loyalty. A Shield doesn't give his or her word easily but when they do – and it's really rare that they give it to someone who isn't the Emperor – then it counts till the day the Shield dies.

“All right, but how do we know that you don't have ordered her to free your father?” Rhodes asked now and sat down at the table. “I mean, we all know how trustworthy the house of Barton is.” 

“I trust him,” Anthony said and looked at Rhodes. Clint felt the heat in his cheeks and he knew that he was red as Anthony's jacket right now.

“My king,” Rhodes bowed his head slightly and Anthony held his hand out for Clint. And he took it. Anthony pulled him at the chair beside him and the other two men shared knowing but uncomfortable looks. 

“The problem we have is, that Harold is most probably with the Jotuns and I'm pretty sure that he's sligthly disgruntled that his kingdom is now mine _and_ that it's witnessed by one of the Emperor's ambassadors. That means, the only way to get it back is by force which means war. What do we know about the troops the Jotuns have, their allies and enemies?” Anthony looked at this three counselors. 

“We know that...” Rhodes started but then he got interrupted by a knock at the door. 

“Enter,” Anthony said and a guard opened the door and when Clint saw the man entering his face lit up. It was Phil and he went down on his knee. 

“I'm glad that you could make it,” Anthony started but then he seemed to have a problem to remember his name and he said instead, “Administrator.” Phil looked up at him and when Anthony pointed at one of the chairs he rose and sat down.

“Thank you, my lord.” He said and threw a strange glance in Clint's direction. 

“I don't know if you already heard it, Sir Philip, but your former king has vanished together with his wife,” Lady Virginia said and sat down as well. Only Rogers remained standing and he still had folded his arms in front of his chest.

“No, I haven't heard about it. When did that happen? And what are the consequences for Venia?” he asked and Clint had to repress a smile. All business in the fraction of a second. Lady Virginia updated Phil and he listened carefully. And Clint felt Anthony take his hand, hidden by the table, stroking its back with his thumb. 

“As far as we know,” Phil looked at Clint and he nodded, “are the Jotuns without alliances. They tried to form an alliance with Harold but... well... it failed as we all know. Odin and Laufey... no, that wouldn't happen and the Asgardians are in sort of an alliance with you, my lord, right?” Anthony nodded. “King Charles XI has his own problems in his country with Lord Erik's rebellion and Victor of Latveria is busy fighting with Reed. The only unpredictability at the moment are the Barons. If Laufey will give them what they want – more power – they will fight on his side but they are not trustworthy, we know that.” Clint snorted and nodded again. “But _if_ they fight on his side then he will have a lot more soldiers than you, my king, and Odin can afford.” 

“What about Harold?” Rhodes looked at Phil. “I mean, when Laufey and Loki manage to get the Barons and they have Harold...” 

“I'm sorry to interrupt you, General,” Clint said, “but if you want to imply that they have a master tactician then I have to disappoint you.”

“Prince, we've fought for years against his troops and...” 

“... now the master tactician is sitting at this table.” Clint pointed with his head at Phil. “My father is most of his time too drunk to know what he does.”

“That's been you?” The General eyed Phil and when he nodded once Rhodes raised his brow. “Well, then we have one problem less to deal with.” 

“But the main problem remains. They have more soldiers than we have,” Lady Virginia said and looked at the men in the room. 

“What about mercenaries? In the borderlands are lots of mercenary armies and...” Phil said but Virginia shook her head. 

“... and the good ones are very, very expensive.” 

Clint looked at Anthony. 

“We can't get enough gold at short notice.” He admitted and Clint leaned back in his chair. He was baffled. It was quiet in the room. All of the others looked at Clint and Anthony now. And Clint was still shocked. He had handed over his country to Anthony because he was sure that he could produce new troops out of thin air. At least, it always seemed as if he could do it because in the last time they always held the upper hand and Clint had lost and lost battle after battle. And now he confessed that he was as good as broke. 

“Anthony...” he started and the older man looked at him apologetically. He had risked everything and he had won and Clint... Clint didn't regret it, he had to admit. He sighed and then he looked at Phil. And when he nodded Clint turned back to Anthony.

“If you could afford them... would you hire the mercenaries?”

“But I can't. I don't...” 

“Can we talk in private?” Clint asked and Anthony nodded. Lady Virginia, Captain Rogers, General Rhodes and Phil rose and left the room. 

“You know that I...” Anthony started as soon as they were alone but Clint shook his head. 

“Don't. I'd done the same in your position. But I need to ask you a question.” He took both of Anthony's hands and the older man looked at him and then he nodded.

“Do you trust me? I mean, do you _really_ trust me?” He asked and Anthony scrutinized him for a very long moment before he nodded again.

“Yes, Clint. Yes, I do.” 

“Then there's something I need to show you, only you.”


	18. Chapter 18

Captain Rogers was dead set against their plan. He said he couldn't leave Anthony alone with the prince. Anthony raised his brow and looked at him.

“It's too dangerous,” he insisted and Anthony sighed.

“We are not alone for the first part of our mission. Only during the last part we will travel without anyone else.”

“What if someone will attack you? What if _he_ is going to attack you?” Captain Rogers hissed and moved closer to Anthony. Apparently he wasn't aware that Clint could hear him. Or he was aware and just didn't care. However, he still didn't seem to trust him. And Clint in his place wouldn't've trusted him as well. After all, just a short while ago they'd been enemies.

“Steve, I've made my decision. And I _do_ trust him. Do you know that he attacked Pepper because he thought that she tried to harm me?” 

“He what?” Captain Rogers raised his voice and stared at Anthony disbelievingly. 

“I've apologized,” Clint threw in and now both men turned to him. 

“Did he harm her?” Rogers asked Anthony, turned his head and glared at Clint. “Did you harm her?” 

“No, Captain Rogers, she's unharmed. You have seen her just mere minutes ago.” Clint said but he didn't dare to rise, he stayed where he was and Anthony sighed when he saw the man's glance.

“You are my king,” he started and when Anthony nodded he continued, “but you are also my friend, Tony. I trust your knowledge of human nature. But...” he turned his head and looked at Clint.

“I know, I'm a Barton and not trustworthy. Would you be okay with me being cuffed?” 

“No,” Anthony shook his head, “I've told you that I trust you.” 

“My lord, it is all right. Captain Rogers is...” Clint tried to calm the waves but Anthony shook his head.

“No. I've made my decision.” 

“He is right. It is dangerous. And...”

“And that's why I need you and your hands. You are an extraordinary marksman and I prefer to have you have your hands free to shoot at enemies if necessary.”

“Tony, please...” Captain Rogers tried again. “Take at least one man with you.” 

“Are the horses ready?” Anthony asked instead of an answer and Rogers sighed. Clint felt a little bit sympathy for the man. He was pretty sure that it wasn't always easy to deal with a man as stubborn as _The Stark_. 

“Yes, my king.” Rogers straightened himself and nodded once, sharp. 

 

 

“It's over there. Our first destination.” Clint pointed at something in the mountains but Anthony couldn't see what he meant. They were alone here for two days now and it wasn't easy but at least they still could ride. Sometimes they had needed to lead the horses over some difficult parts but right now they both sat in their saddles. The sun shone and it was not a single cloud in the sky but up here in this heights it wasn't too warm and Anthony was glad, that Clint had insisted to take the coats with them. 

Right now he turned around and looked at Anthony questioningly. 

“Sorry, I... I don't see anything but mountains and stones and trees and...” he said and Clint chuckled slightly.

“That's the idea. No one should find it unintentionally.” 

“Oh, well then.” He tried once again to see what Clint had seen and led his horse a few steps closer to Clint's. 

“There. Do you see that ledge?” Clint pointed and leaned closer to Anthony. He moved his head a bit and then he was really close and he could feel his warmth and could smell the leather of his coat. 

“Yes, that I can see.” He nodded and Clint turned his head for a second to him and smiled.

“Okay. And now move your eyes to its left, the darker spot in the rocks.” 

“That's it?” Anthony looked at Clint and when he saw him nod he smiled as well. 

“Sort of. We'll need about an hour to get there.” 

Clint cocked his head and when Anthony sighed he grinned and turned his horse around. He saw out from the corner of his eye that the king rubbed his back. He knew that it was a strenuous ride and for someone who wasn't used to ride long distances it could be even worse. But as long as Anthony didn't complain he wouldn't ask him if he was all right, not because of insensibility but because he didn't want to ashame him. They rode in quietness and then, when they were at the ledge Clint stopped his horse and dismounted. But when he was at the ground he held his hand out to help Anthony down as well. The older man groaned. 

“God, why have those beasts have to be so uncomfortable?” he sighed and rubbed his back again.

“Are you all right?” Clint asked now and Anthony groaned again, this time really theatrically and Clint couldn't hold back a chuckle. 

“Yes, I'm all right. I guess I'm getting old.” Anthony sighed while Clint tied the horses to one of the rocks. He took his bow and quiver and a lantern.

“Come with me,” Clint once again held his hand out and Anthony took it. He led him up a small trail and only thanks to Clint's fast reflexes Anthony didn't harm himself when he slipped and nearly fell. But then they arrived on a plateau and behind a rock formation he could finally see the entrance to the mine. 

“This is... I didn't expect that!” Anthony said and Clint could see his raised brows. 

“It's one of our most closely guarded secrets.” Clint lit the lantern and led him into the mine. They didn't have to walk too far for the first thin veins of gold. 

“Clint, this is...” Anthony looked at him wide eyed. 

“... a gold mine? Yes, it is.” 

“No, that wasn't what I wanted to say,” he looked at him disbelievingly.

“Why... I mean... there is still gold in here.” 

“Yes,” Clint nodded slowly, hunkered down and let a few of the stones run through his fingers.

“Why...” he started again and Clint could see it in his eyes that he couldn't grasp it. There were all these riches and nevertheless Clint had to hand his country over to Anthony.

“I guess I've told you that my father was an idiot, right?” He looked up to Anthony and then he let out a bitter snort. “He believed the Barons. And when they withdrew their troops he had a big problem. He was still at war with you. He needed soldiers and up here in the mines were men. But they could either fight or work. He abandoned the mines and forced the men into the army. He should've let them work and use the gold to hire mercenaries. And when I had to take over there weren't enough men left to work here. That's why I tried so hard to protect this province.” 

Anthony licked his lips.

“Why are you showing me this?” He cocked his head and Clint hunched his shoulders and rose.

“This kingdom is yours now, the people are yours, everything in here is yours, me included, remember? You've promised to protect this country but you can't do it without troops. I've promised to protect the people here. There are more mines in these mountains. With the gold and the gems you can hire mercenaries and protect them. You can keep my promise.” Clint looked at Anthony and he had an unreadable expression on his face. 

“When... you've said it was one of the most closely guarded secrets. But... you needed people to work here. They could've told someone.” 

“No. First, the men who worked here were really well-payed. And then... they had to swear an oath in the names of the gods to never talk about the mines. If one of them violated the oath not only he but also his whole family got punished. All of them got executed and all of the other men who worked with the traitor lost their job and their right hand. It was cruel, I know. The men ensured themselves that all of them stayed in line. They wanted to keep their job and they didn't want to lose their families or their hands.” 

“Oh my god, Clint.” 

“You know as well as me that my ancestors weren't nice people.” Clint shrugged and turned away but Anthony held his hand. 

“This... thank you, Clint. Thank you for trusting me.” He cupped Clint's face and when he swallowed the older man smiled and kissed him.

“All right,” he cleared his throat when they parted, “uhm... are you ready for the next part?” 

“Oh, gods,” Anthony groaned again. “Not this horse again.”


	19. Chapter 19

When they came back into the camp Captain Rogers already awaited them. Anthony saw him look him over if Clint had harmed him but the younger man only grinned, when he dismounted like an old man. But they rode through the mountains for a few days and Anthony didn't like to ride so much. 

Clint jumped off of the horse and went over to Anthony to lend him a hand and when he was on the ground, Steve pointed at his tent. 

“We've prepared you a bath, my lord,” he said formally. They came into view about half an hour ago and Steve knew, that Anthony didn't like to ride. 

“Thanks,” he murmured and together the two men stumbled into the tent. 

“I know it was a strenuous ride,” Clint grinned again and helped Anthony out of his jacket. 

“Honestly, horses are really beautiful creatures. But why on earth do they have to be so uncomfortable?” he groaned and sat down on a chair. Clint chuckled and went to help him remove his boots. “Oh god, this is...” Anthony groaned when he was out of them. He hadn't removed them the last few days. “This feels like heaven.” 

“It was better to leave them on. Your feet are swollen. If you had removed the boots, you would never have gotten them back on,” he knelt down in front of Anthony, took his right foot in his hand and started to knead the sole. 

“Oh, gods!” He groaned. “Where did you learn to do that?” 

Clint smiled up at him. “I've learned a lot of things my father thought would be useful to _please_ my future husband,” he said and Anthony blushed. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't...” he stammered. He really had forgotten about Loki of Jotunheim.

“It is okay. And, as it seems, it proves to be useful, after all,” he leaned down and kissed the bridge of his foot before he put it down to reach for the left one. 

“Clint, please...” Anthony reached down and tried to get him off of the floor but Clint just smiled and started to knead his other foot and Anthony couldn't hold back the moan – it really felt good. 

“I've promised you a foot massage, didn't I?” he asked. 

“Yes, you did. And you are always a man of your word,” Anthony was baffled. 

“You are still surprised?” Clint asked and sat back on his heels. 

“That wasn't... I didn't... it just slipped, you know,” Anthony held out his hand and this time Clint took it and rose when he pulled him up. 

“I know,” Clint smiled and when he stood, it was him who pulled Anthony up and _manhandled_ him over to the wooden tub with the still steaming water. “And now, into the tub with you. You don't want to talk to your counselors, covered in dust and dirt?” 

“No, of course not. But you come with me,” he insisted and Clint opened his mouth to protest but Tony shut him with a kiss. “You come with me,” he repeated. And Clint finally gave in and together they squeezed into the tub, scrubbed each others bodies and enjoyed the feeling of being clean after almost a week on horse backs. 

When they both had left the tub, toweled themselves and were dressed, Clint went to the guard that waited outside of the tent and told him, to call Captain Rogers and General Rhodes. The guard glared at him for a long moment but then he nodded.

“You wanted to see us?” Rhodey said when the two men entered the tent and sat down with Anthony and Clint.

“Yes. Rhodey, I need you to send your most capable man to the borderlands. He needs to hire mercenaries. As many as he can get,” he said and Rhodey furrowed his brows. 

“How...” he started but then he looked at Steve. 

“Do we have a messenger here?” he asked and Steve nodded.

“Yes, Parker came with us, remember?” he said, frowned as well and looked at Rhodes. 

“Don't worry, I'm not gone crazy. But now we have a chance to defeat the Jotuns and the Barons,” he said and grinned a little manically. 

“How, Tony?” Rhodes asked and once again shared a glance with Steve. “Not enough money to hire mercenaries, remember?” 

“Not anymore,” Clint threw in and now both men, Steve and Rhodey, looked at him. 

“He's right. Now we have the means to increase our troops and when Laufey or the Barons make one wrong move, then they are history,” Anthony said. The foot massage and the bath had revived his spirits and he was ready for action. 

Clint shared a glance with Tony and then he nodded but before Anthony said a word he rose, went to the entrance of the tent and left it, walked around one time to make sure no one was too close to listen. Only when he was back, Anthony started to speak, quietly and he told them about the mines. 

“This is crazy,” Rhodey murmured and looked at Clint. “Why didn't your father let the men dig out the gold and gems?” 

Clint snorted. Anthony had asked him the same question. “Have you ever talked to the Baron's?” he asked instead of an answer and when both, Rhodes and Rogers, shook their heads, he continued. “Duquesne and Chisholm, they are... how should I put it... they would be able to sell sand to the Dhun if they wanted to. And they have all the other Baron's on their side. They convinced my father to believe them and not his own counselors. If he had listened to Sir Philip, he would have let the men in the mines and had hired mercenaries. Chisholm had told him it would be easier to form an alliance with them and to take their troops. But so they had a foot in the door, so to speak, and I guess I've told you that my father wasn't... well... he's not the brightest light on Ariss' night.” Clint stopped and looked at the men around the table. “Duquesne and Chisholm talked him into an alliance with the Jotuns and they kept the war with you,” he looked at Anthony, “going.” 

“But why? What do they want? Their own kingdom?” Steve asked and this time Clint couldn't hold back a snort.

“You've never been to their territory, right?” Clint asked and when all three men shook their heads, he nodded.

“My father took me there when I was six. You've heard of Carson, the traveling king? The last king of North-Eiylenn? His head is still on a stake in the garden of Chisholm's castle. They don't want a king but they want more influence, more power. And when half of the Empire is at war with each other, they can expand their influence.” 

“And no one takes them serious because since they killed King Carson, everyone considers them as too insignificant to be a real thread,” Rhodes added. “Most of their baronies are smaller than some of our provinces.” 

“But they have troops, right?” Rogers asked and Clint nodded. 

“Yes, unfortunately. Lot's of people, not enough food for all of them, what do you do? Put them in the military and lend your troops to other sovereigns, get money and influence,” Clint said and Anthony folded his hands. 

“But now we have the means to hire our own troops, we can defend the two kingdoms against the Jotuns and the Barons...” They got interrupted by the sound of a small hammer against a wooden board. Someone was outside of the tent and wanted in. Captain Rogers rose and went to the entrance and came back with Parker behind him. 

The young man knelt down and bowed his head. “My lord, you wanted to see me,” he said quietly. 

“Yes, Parker,” Anthony gestured for Rhodey to give him the parchment behind him, took his quill and started to write for a few seconds, handed the parchment to Steve who sealed it and gave it to Parker. 

“You bring that to Lady Virginia as fast as possible,” he said and gave the letter to Parker. 

“Yes, sir,” he said, rose, took the parchment and put it in his bag. 

“This is really important, Parker,” Anthony added and the boy nodded again. 

“Of course, my lord. I will take good care of it,” he said and Anthony smiled at him. The boy left the tent and the men heard the hooves of a horse only a few seconds later. 

“I guess Sir Philip can manage to revive the mining,” Anthony said and the other three man stared at him as if he'd grown another head. “What?” he asked and frowned.

“You remembered his name, Tony,” Rhodey muttered and Anthony rolled his eyes. 

“I am his king now, it is my job to remember his name,” he said and rose. “Captain Rogers, we travel back home tomorrow. Can you see to it? And get me my carriage!” 

“Of course, Tony,” Steve smirked, nodded at Rhodey and together the two men left the tent. 

“And now, Prince Clinton of the house Barton,” Anthony murmured, placed both hands on his shoulders and kissed the back of his neck, “let me pay you back for the great foot massage.” 

“No objections, my lord,” Clint turned around, smiled and wrapped his arms around Anthony's hips before he kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> [asamandra on tumblr](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/)


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